


Between A Dream and A Miracle

by hellsinki



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angels can be bad for your health tho, Angst with a Happy Ending, But only bc Aomine is TERRIBLE at feelings, But you already knew that, Kagami Taiga is an angel, Kagami-centric, M/M, Oblivious Kagami Taiga, POV Multiple, Pining Aomine Daiki, Selfish vs Selfless Love, Soft boys hurting softly, Unrequited Love, Until it isn't, but rest assured the 5prcnt is gonna be really effective, by softly I mean they don't talk about it, can you say which is which, this fic is 95prcnt hurt n 5prnt healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22345519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellsinki/pseuds/hellsinki
Summary: It all started with this.“I had a dream of you.”Kagami keeps dreaming about Aomine and makes it a point to tell him about each and every one of them, much to the Touou ace's frustration and dismay. At first, Aomine thinks the dreams mean Kagami likes him back, but Kagami denies any significance to the dreams. Why is Kagami so hell-bent on tormenting Aomine like that, and also hurting himself in the process?
Relationships: Aomine Daiki/Kagami Taiga, Kagami Taiga & Kiyoshi Teppei, Kagami Taiga & Kuroko Tetsuya
Comments: 86
Kudos: 143





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “You're something between a dream and a miracle.” - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

It all started with this. 

_“I had a dream of you.”_

Said in a measured tone, soft and guarded, like smokescreen, coming through a mouth that Aomine had never really heard something so, dare he say, _romantic,_ coming out of. 

Only, it wasn’t romantic. Even if it was followed by, _“of the two of us dancing. Somewhere in the open. Out on a hill, I guess. White lilies and everything. I was teaching you the steps. You were really bad at it.”_

It sounded romantic as all hell, even to someone as crude and uncouth as Aomine, but it wasn’t romantic because Kagami said it wasn’t.

_“What the fuck, man? Are you gay?”_

_“No, you stupid aho! It was just a dream I had!”_

The images left a dent on his mind, like a physical blow to the skull. He pictured them with details that Kagami left out. The clear, blue sky over their heads. The smell of flowers in the air. The breeze brushing against their exposed skins. Them taking note of each other’s shivering in close proximity. The sound of Kagami’s _laughter_ when Aomine tripped over his feet. How happy it made him feel, seeing Kagami happy.

_“Then keep those damn dreams to yourself!”_

It all started with that. 

But it didn’t end there. 

_“I can’t.”_

***

  
  


It’s stupid, Aomine thinks, the way he feels about Kagami. 

It’s stupid not because Kagami is a 192 centimeters, 82 kilograms bulk of muscle and masculine power, reeking of sweat halfway through their one-on-one basketball games every Saturday.

It’s stupid not because Kagami looks the furthest from the pictures in Aomine’s collection of gravure magazines, with his fierce eyes and strong jawline, calloused fingers, bulging biceps and very noticeable lack of boobs.

It’s stupid not because Kagami is his rival and they go to different schools and only see each other on Saturdays because the redhead has a training regimen from hell and he can barely make it to their one-on-ones without passing out of exhaustion and dehydration and cramped muscles on the way to a street court that is too far from both of their houses, with cracked concrete and rusted hoops and terrible lighting when it gets dark (and it always does, time all but flying around them with Kagami’s every glorious jump), but they keep using it anyway because it’s abandoned and they can keep playing to their hearts’ content without anyone disturbing them ( _“If it’s exclusive, then it’s a date, Aomine-kun.” “Shut up, Tetsu.”_ ) 

It’s stupid because Kagami doesn’t feel the same way. 

_“What the fuck does that even mean? Is this your stupid way of confessing your love or some shit?”_

_“It’s not like that! It doesn’t mean anything. I just had a dream and I wanted you to hear it.”_

_“You’re having dreams about me, Kagami. How’s that not gay?”_

_“I dream about a lot of stuff, aho. It has nothing to do with my sexuality, or you, for that matter.”_

And he would have let go of his troublesome feelings a long time ago; he’s not one to ruminate about things that can never be, not anymore; not, quite ironically, after Kagami when all he always thought as impossible to obtain were thrust into his arms unceremoniously: a perfect basketball rival that could keep pace with him and sometimes, even run ahead of him; a reason to enjoy basketball again; a reason to smile more often; a reason to _live_ and get _better_.

But Kagami is stupid, even more so than Aomine’s feelings for him, and he does it again, talks about forbidden things, _soft_ things, terrible things, in that rough, guarded voice of his, tells Aomine things that he both wants and doesn’t want to hear, things that resonate deep within him and throw his feelings all over the place like some long overdue laundry, and Aomine keeps telling him to stop, (a guy can take this kind of torture for so long), but Kagami doesn’t want or doesn’t know how to, like a ball of rocks rolling downhill, can’t fight against the gravity, the inevitability, the sadistic irony, destroying everything in its wake without discrimination and care. 

_“I had a dream of you again.”_

Like it means nothing to him. Like it’s a mere story that he heard somewhere, that he thought Aomine would find amusing, with no personal value to either of them. 

_“I don’t want to hear it.”_

But Kagami, the oblivious, or inconsiderate bastard, doesn’t give a damn to what Aomine wants or doesn’t want to hear.

_“You were at my place, pulling back the curtains and opening the windows in a frenzy, saying my house was too dim.”_

Sometimes, Aomine is a hair's breadth away from wrapping his hands around Kagami’s thick neck and _squeeze_. 

_“Are you fucking deaf, Bakagami? I said I don’t want to fucking hear it!”_

But the words kept pouring out of that beautiful but cruel mouth with such urgency as if the world would suddenly cease to exist if Kagami stopped talking. 

(Aomine’s would, if Kagami didn’t.)

  
  


_“I grabbed you by the shoulder and told you, hey Ahomine, stop! It’s all dark outside, can’t you see? And it’s fucking cold! We both looked outside the window. It was snowing. And you said, I’ve never seen snow before. So I grabbed your hand and said, let’s go play basketball in the snow —”_

It’s not funny, how Aomine can imagine soft snowflakes lining up on Kagami’s crimson hair and melting with the barest of his touch; how the sharp tip of Kagami’s nose would flush red in the cold; Aomine can even hear his sniffling, and the rough feel of his hands - those big, long-fingered hands that have never touched anything more reverently than a basketball or that goddamn ring around his neck - almost frozen in Aomine’s much warmer hold. 

Is it Kagami’s fault that Aomine has such a vivid imagination? Must be, because Aomine has never imagined, nor has he ever _yearned_ to see, snowflakes catching on anyone else’s hair before. 

_“Kagami...what are you trying to pull?”_

_“I’m not trying to pull anything! Will you stop being a drama queen over this and just listen for fuck’s sake? Don’t you ever have dreams?”_

He does. Not as frequently as Kagami does. But something of the same nature. Only, Aomine knows what they mean. He dreams of holding hands with Kagami in the snow; of kissing the tip of his flushed nose; of dragging his mouth along the graceful sinews in his neck; of burying his nose into those crimson locks and inhaling deeply; of knowing how kissing Kagami on the mouth feels like despite having never done it for real before.

Aomine is obsessed. Something at once more overwhelming than love and more underwhelming than affection. And every time Kagami tells him about a dream, it just gets worse. 

The hope turns to confusion turns to anger turns to ash.

_“What do you want from me, Kagami?”_

_“I just want you to listen, Aomine. That’s all I want.”_

*******

It’s been a whole month since he last saw or talked to Aomine. 

There is no one-on-one on Saturdays. No Maji Burger afterward. No crashing at Kagami’s place, blaming the late hour or the rain, throwing sweaty clothes into the laundry hamper, getting competitive over silly video games and eating Kagami’s homemade food and beating him to the shower. 

It’s fine, Kagami thinks, if that bastard Aomine is too busy with his new girlfriend to make any time for his number one basketball rival that he couldn’t go one day without challenging to a game. It’s his loss, anyway. Kagami has a long list of enthusiastic basketball players to choose from for his weekly one-on-ones. Kise is the most eager of the lot, and he can even imitate some of Aomine’s moves (they’re far from perfect, but Kagami appreciates the sentiment all the same). And when Kise can’t make it to their game because of a photoshoot or an upcoming exam or whatever, there is Midorima, who always brings along Takao without fail; or as Midorima would insist, he tags along without the green-eyed boy’s consent. And Kagami would then ask Kuroko to join them, too. And they’d keep playing two-on-twos until it’d be too late for any of them to be able to catch the last train home, and they’d crash at Kagami’s place which is the closest to the court, and Takao would help him with preparing dinner and Kuroko would set the table and Midorima would later help him with the dishes -- all the things that freeloader Aomine never bothered to do. 

It’s fine if Aomine wishes to keep his distance from him and spend his time with someone he likes better. Kagami understands, and he respects Aomine’s decision and he’s not desperate for a worthy basketball rival the way Aomine is (for him).

It’s all fine until it isn’t. 

Kagami has a dream of Aomine again. 

And he has to tell Aomine about it as soon as possible. Only, Aomine has not been answering his calls or returned any of his messages, and Kagami could write about the dream in an email but he has no way of knowing if Aomine would read it (he probably won’t, that melodramatic asshole). 

He wakes up with a throbbing pain at the back of his head from a stupid dream of him and Aomine _surfing_ of all things, and decides to skip his first period today and takes the bus to Aomine’s school instead of his own. He ignores all the curious looks thrown his way and asks a boy in Touou’s basketball jersey (can’t remember his face, so not a regular yet) if he knows which class Aomine is. The boy is kind enough to offer to take him there (and gush about Kagami’s skills all the way there, making the redhead blush to the roots of his hair) but once there, Kagami is told by a classmate that Aomine hasn’t been to school for two days. 

Well, shit. 

He’s worried. Of course, he is. Aomine is a friend even if his attitude is rotten. And Kagami is not emotionally repressed like that blue-haired bastard to deny the bothersome feeling to himself. 

That leaves him with no other option but to take a trip to Aomine’s house. At least, Honomi-san likes him well enough to let him in even if Aomine had most likely told her not to. 

“Oh! Taiga-kun! Why aren’t you at school? Did something happen?”

Honomi-san is, Kagami imagines, how Aomine would’ve been like if he hadn’t been spoiled rotten and thought of himself as the best thing that ever happened to Earth since the invention of basketball. She has all that dark blue hair (longer and shinier; probably because she takes better care of it than that lazyass Aomine), the midnight blue eyes (with longer eyelashes, maybe), the dark skin tone and a small thin-lipped mouth; all so like Aomine and yet not, because her eyes are much softer, and the smile on her lips that she gives him so freely is kind and unguarded, and sure it would’ve been nice if Aomine behaved like a decent human being with manners and honest smiles, but that would no longer be the real Aomine. The one Kagami has grown to know and well, _like_ , in a very exasperated, _Aomine-you-fucking-bastard_ kind of way, so Kagami never pursues the idle musing past the thought that Aomine has quite, and at the same time hasn’t at all, taken after his mom. 

“I hope not,” Kagami says as he hefts the strap of his school bag higher on his shoulder, painfully aware of the fact that he’s in his school uniform but nowhere near Seirin. Its a 30-minute bus ride plus a ten-minute walk from Seirin to Aomine’s place, and Kagami has already missed the first period. 

Must have looked quite suspicious to drop in like this so early in the morning while wearing his school uniform, but Honomi-san, in yet another _un_ Aomine-like manner, looks at him with concerned eyes instead of suspicion (Have Aomine’s eyes ever looked soft with concern? Kagami can’t remember a single occasion where that was the case). 

“Is Aomine home, Honomi-san?”

“Yes, he is, dear. But he’s come down with a terrible cold. He’s been all cooped up in his room since he came back from school two days ago.”

That idiot caught a cold? The idea sounds preposterous to Kagami. He didn’t know Aomine was capable of catching a cold. Besides basketball, there was pretty much nothing else the Touou ace could actually do, including getting sick.

“Oh. Uhh...can I see him?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Taiga-kun. You might catch the virus; his doctor said it’s very contagious.”

No. He _has to_ see Aomine. That fucking bastard. How does he manage to piss Kagami off without even trying?

“Please, Honomi-san? It’s urgent. I really have to see him.” He feels desperate. He sounds desperate. And he’s pretty sure he looks desperate, too, if that pitying look on Honomi-san’s face is anything to go by.

“Well, you did come all the way down here to see him, so it must be something urgent. Just make it quick, alright? I don’t want you to catch Daiki’s cold, it’s really awful.”

Kagami grins widely at her, “Thank you so much, Honomi-san.” And gives her a quick hug and secretly revels in the affectionate pat he receives on his head before stepping inside the Aomines’ household. 

He stops short at the foot of the staircase when he is suddenly struck by the realization that, while he has been invited to Aomine’s house on a few occasions (at Honomi-san’s insistence because she’s an angel and Aomine’s an ass), he has never been to _Aomine’s room_ before; which is a very odd thing to realize now, considering how many times the Touou’s ace had been to _his_ place, to the point where he walked around the house as if he owned the place and had practically taken over the guest room on Saturday nights when he slept over.

Understanding his predicament, Honomi-san calls out to him from the kitchen, “upstairs, second door to your left! It’s the one with the basketball poster on it, you can’t miss it!”

There is fond humor in her motherly voice which makes Kagami’s heart ache for all the two seconds before he catches himself in the wistful daydream and throws a grateful “thanks!” over his shoulder as he climbs the stairs two at a time.

The basketball poster turns out to be, much to Kagami’s utter lack of surprise, a Cleveland Cavaliers logo in all of its wine, gold and navy blue glory. It is no secret that Aomine favors the Cavs above all NBA teams; an annoying bias that has been the cause of too many pointless, heated arguments between the two of them, with Kagami advocating the Bulls, of course. They haven’t had an argument, pointless or otherwise, in far too long, and the thought startles Kagami with its burning, rueful gust of nostalgia. 

Shoving the wistfulness aside, Kagami creaks open the door to a rather small, awfully cluttered room with stuffy air that smells like sinus infection and stale sweat. On the bed, Aomine is sprawled on his stomach, half-covered by a thick blanket, one of his nostrils plugged by a ball of tissue, an arm hanging off the side of the bed, breaths wheezing through a clogged nose. In short, Kagami has never seen Aomine look so pitiful, and something tugs at his heart at the vulnerable sight of his normally formidable rival.

“Aomine.” He calls his name in a loud, rough voice, but the boy doesn’t stir.

“Aomine, wake up.” He tries again, this time much closer to the source of viral infection, head bent down far enough for his lips to be almost touching Aomine’s ear.

A groan is all he gets for his trouble. 

“Hey, Ahomine, wake up,” he shakes the other boy’s shoulder roughly, not caring anymore that he is practically breathing in Aomine’s germs. 

Aomine finally cracks open an eye at the rough manhandling. 

“Huh? Kagami?” He sounds funny, with the clogged nose and the inflamed throat. His usually clear eyes are glassy with sleep and sickness. “Is this some fever-induced nightmare?”

Kagami snorts. “No, dumbass, I’m really here.”

“Why? What the fuck are you doing here, Bakagami? Don’t you have school?” Aomine drags his body into a sitting position, directing a glare at him which is ruined by the flush on his cheeks and the tissue stuffed into one of his nostrils.

Aomine looks both disgusting and kinda adorable at the same time. Kagami resists the urge to laugh at the absurd sight. “I kept calling your phone, but you wouldn’t pick up. Then, I went to Touou but you weren’t there. So I decided to come here.”

Aomine groans and rubs at his temple as if to ward off a headache. “Why? What's going on? It’d better be about the apocalypse or I swear I’ll fucking kick your ass out.”

“Sorry to disappoint, aho. It’s nothing like that. I just had a dream about you again.”

“Kagami!” Aomine almost launches at him, like an angry panther about to tear into its prey with vicious claws, but he has to grip the headboard in his dizzy, feverish state to prevent a painful face-plant to the floor. 

“I know you’re not particularly fond of these dreams, but please, just listen. It’s important.” Kagami begs, because he doesn’t really see himself above the act at this point. Aomine, for whatever assholish reason, is unwilling to listen, and Kagami feels quite desperate. 

“For fuck’s sake, Kagami! I don’t want to listen to any of this dream crap of yours! Just leave me the fuck alone!”

There is enough genuine rancor in Aomine’s voice to make Kagami physically recoil from the almost palpable slap of it. Their friendship, or rivalry or whatever, has never been a stroll in the park; their personalities have too many jagged points to leave any of their encounters without cuts and bruises. But Kagami isn’t a stranger to bruises (he had received enough of them back in the States on street courts and dark back alleys) and has never flinched away from a punch because he knows when to dodge and when to face it head-on and take it like the pig-headed idiot he is. With Aomine there have mostly been punches that he took straight to the face because like hell was he going to turn down a challenge and this time is no different. 

“Please, Aomine, it won’t take long! Let me just say it real quick and I’ll be out of your hair in no time. I’ll make you teriyaki burger in return.”

“You’re a real bastard, Kagami, you know that? Bribing me with food.”

“I’ll be quick,” he says again, hoping that his eyes, usually fierce and unyielding and resolved, look harmless enough for Aomine to lower his guards. 

“What the fuck even is my life?” Aomine whines in that ridiculous nasal voice and gives Kagami the dirtiest look he could manage with those glassy eyes. “You won’t stop harassing me until you get your way, so, just spit it out and get the fuck out of here before I decide to throttle you.”

Kagami begins telling him about the dream with as little detail as possible. They are on a beach; a familiar one; one that Kagami used to frequent a lot back in LA. Both of them are in swim trunks and holding a surfboard under their arms. Aomine is grinning, bragging about a surfing competition. Kagami is grinning, too, telling him he has a long way before he could get anywhere near his level at surfing. Aomine tells him he has never been happier since he met him.

By the end of the recounting, Kagami is met with a pillow thrown hard at his face and a scream, “Get the fuck out of my face you fucking asshole! I don’t wanna see you ever again!”

Kagami ducks under the next assault - a gravure magazine that Aomine had grabbed from the bedside table - and manages to run out of the room and close the door before a basketball shoe could bash in his skull. 

Aomine’s hatred of him burns under his skin, the awful words uttered with such clear sincerity, reverberating in his head with vengeful glee; but Kagami heaves a sigh of relief as he rests his head on the wooden door. He managed to tell Aomine about the dream and that’s what really matters anyway. 

The next day, Kagami makes the teriyaki burgers he had promised but Aomine never comes. And Kagami is too sick to deliver them to his house or eat them himself. In a move that he knows he will regret later, he throws them all away. But for now, he doesn’t really care.

If only he could stop dreaming about Aomine. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Six lovely people wanted to read more of this lil fic, so here's a new chapter for you:)

The first time he saw Kagami and Aomine together, stepping into each other’s personal space, heedless of touching skin and breathing each other’s air in a fashion that only people who were either comfortable with or totally oblivious about their sexualities would pull off, eyes blazing with fervor and vitriol that could mean anything from concentrated interest to typical hostility between rivals, like a long-winded story with too many loose ends finally coming to a head, Kuroko thought, _ah...two lights...too bright_. They’d dance around each other and burn everything that tries to get in their way. That, or they might end up burning each other or themselves. 

It’s been almost a year since then and Kuroko is still unsure what Kagami and Aomine will end up doing to others, to each other or to themselves. To an extent, some damage has already been done, but it is only perceptible to the keenest of eyes. Akashi would have definitely seen it coming if he were around them more often. Kuroko remembers clearly what his former captain had told him about Kagami a few months after the Winter Cup at Momoi’s birthday party. 

_“Kagami Taiga is a dangerous man, Tetsuya. You’ll be well-advised to constantly keep your guard up around him.”_

_“That is an odd thing to say about him, Akashi-kun. I am sure everyone else here will attest to the fact that Kagami-kun is an actual angel.”_

_“That is exactly why I’m concerned, Tetsuya. There are no such things as angels. If you think there are, then you have been deceived.”_

At the time, Kuroko had had no reason to buy into Akashi’s assessment. After Rakuzan’s defeat at the Winter Cup, there was a new _edge_ to Akashi’s personality where Kagami was concerned. While Kise, with his sunny disposition, immediately took a genuine liking to Kagami, Aomine crashed into his life like an unignorable force of nature and refused to budge, Midorima developed a begrudging respect, and Murasakibara an open admiration for the redhead’s cooking skills, Akashi remained...guarded. Skeptical. Maybe even suspicious, in that subtle, calculated way of his that Kuroko was sure had gone completely over Kagami’s oblivious head as the taller redhead kept inviting the Rakuzan’s captain to every GoM gathering at his place. 

That edge didn’t concern or even surprise Kuroko, who put it down to Akashi’s usual dose of paranoia stemming from a sharp, yet cynical mind, and his unaccustomed nature to _nice_ things that were not manipulative; selfless acts of kindness that didn’t come with an ulterior motive; a capacity for forgiveness that bordered on ridiculous. Kuroko knew in Akashi’s worldview, people like Kagami didn’t _exist_ ; that they were a pitiful imitation at best, and a deceptive illusion at worst. 

It took Kuroko longer than it normally would to understand what Akashi had meant by his seemingly out-of-nowhere warning. And no, he didn’t agree with his reasoning that Kagami was _faking_ it. Because Kuroko knew Kagami better than anyone, even better than that so-called brother of his, and he knew Kagami was too passionate and too earnest to have any need, let alone any talent, for pretense. 

But, he took Akashi’s advice, anyway. Because while Akashi’s reasoning may have been flawed, his concern was not exactly misplaced. Kagami Taiga _was_ dangerous. Not because he wasn’t really an angel, but because he really was one. 

Aomine didn’t see any danger in that. Or perhaps, he _thrived_ on it. It was hard to read Aomine, sometimes. Not because the Touou’s ace had a complicated character, oh no. Far from it. The reason Kuroko had difficulty comprehending Aomine’s motives was that Aomine himself was completely unaware of them. That made him inconsistent and unpredictable in certain situations. Especially every time Kagami was concerned. 

For instance, Kuroko would’ve never thought that Aomine Daiki, the arrogant, narcissistic, disillusioned, boobs-obsessed basketball prodigy would be the first of their lot to fall in love with Kagami Taiga. 

In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have been that surprised. After all, excluding Kuroko himself, Aomine was the one hanging out with Kagami the most. Maybe, the surprise should’ve been at the ridiculous amount of time Aomine willingly spent around Kagami. Sure, basketball was one thing. But Kuroko knew basketball wasn’t all that they did together. Aomine crashed at Kagami’s place so frequently that he basically had his own room there. Kuroko should’ve asked Aomine _why_ a long time ago. Now, it was a moot point. Aomine went and fell in love with Kagami, ignoring or blinded to all the warning signs; and Kagami...well, Kagami wasn’t really in the habit of overstepping boundaries when human relationships were concerned. Others would have called him dense, or oblivious. Aomine most likely did; there was just so much sexual frustration there. But Kuroko knew it had something to do with Kagami’s rather rigid ethical codes that he suspected no one else but him knew about: ‘Don’t fall in love with friends.’ It was probably somewhere between ‘Don’t eat fast food more than once a week’ and ‘Don’t fall asleep at Takuma-Sensei’s class.’ Compared to Aomine, Kagami was much easier to figure out, because he made it easy; he had a set of rules and he followed them faithfully. Aomine’s personality lacked Kagami’s depth but it was all over the place. It was a _miracle_ that he even figured out he was in love with Kagami. Or maybe, it was just Kagami. He was a force that couldn’t be ignored or mistaken for something less. Even someone as haphazard and capricious as Aomine would’ve been affected in a way that they couldn't help but take notice.

Which brings them to this current predicament: Aomine has been avoiding Kagami for a while. Kagami has been trying to think nothing of it. Kuroko has been worried about them both. 

Which is why he readily agreed to meet up with Aomine at the Maji Burger late on a Sunday, even though he shouldn’t really be missing sleep before an exam day. 

“Aomine-kun, you look more agitated than usual. What’s wrong?”

Aomine picks disinterestedly at his barely-touched burger. He only ordered one, much to Kuroko’s surprise, and he hasn’t even finished it yet. “Nothing’s wrong, Tetsu.”

“Then what am I doing here?”

Aomine gives him a look. “Well, can’t I just invite you to Maji for some friendly chat?”

“Sure, but I’ve been waiting for that friendly chat for almost half an hour now.”

Aomine clicks his tongue. “Always a sarcastic little shit, aren’t you, Tetsu.”

Aomine has never been one to mince words. And neither has Kuroko. “And you love me for it.”

“Not true, but we’re not here for that, so whatever.”

This is his opening, so Kuroko takes it. “What _are_ we here for? Talk to me, Aomine-kun. Maybe I can help.”

Aomine finally gives up on the burger and pushes the tray aside to put his arms on the table. “I dunno if you can help. If anyone can help. Or if I even want help. Urgh...forget it, Tetsu. Just enjoy your free milkshake and get back home.”

“Is this about Kagami-kun?”

The sudden sour expression breaking all over Aomine’s face is answer enough; not that Kuroko had any doubt what the answer would be. “Huh? What does this have anything to do with that baka?’

“Because _everything_ is about Kagami-kun, one way or another.”

“Yeah? Why is that?” The tone is petulant, like a child upset that his parents are giving more attention to his younger sibling than they used to give him before the sibling came along. 

“Be real, Aomine-kun. You should know that better than anyone. But I’ll give you some pointers: Because you’re in love with Kagami-kun.”

Aomine winces, like he’s been poked in the face by needles. Maybe it’s a cruel tactic, to prod and press where he knows must hurt the worst, but they won’t get anywhere tonight if Kuroko plays the soft card.

“Not...not anymore. I’m dating someone, remember?” His voice cracks and he’s trying to avoid eye contact without being conspicuous about it. Kuroko hasn’t been named the most observant player on their team for nothing. 

“That mysterious girl whose name I don’t even know.” Another low blow, maybe. Kuroko has been curious about that for a while. Aomine’s mysterious girlfriend. The _rumors_ appeared a few days before Kagami started asking Kise for one-on-ones. Kuroko could put two and two together. 

On the other side of the table, Aomine looks a dangerous mixture of furious and indignant. “Are you saying I made that up?”

“Did you?” Kuroko asks in a neutral tone but it doesn’t make much difference. Aomine looks about to murder him. 

“Well, fuck you, Tetsu. I’m not telling you shit about that.”

Well, that didn’t work out. Kuroko decides to drop the topic for now. Agitating Aomine, unfortunately, leads to the opposite of the desired effect, most of the time. Plus, Aomine’s mysterious girlfriend is not his concern right now. 

“Fair enough. Tell me about Kagami-kun instead. Why aren’t you two speaking anymore?”

Aomine’s thin brows crease into a severe scowl. “Who said we’re not talking? Kagami is such a wuss, telling you things like that.”

Honestly, these _children_. 

“He didn’t say anything, although sometimes I wish he would. It’d make all of our lives so much easier.” Kuroko sighs and puts the now-empty plastic cup of his milkshake away. “He’s been asking me, Kise-kun and Midorima-kun to join him for basketball. As much as it pains me to say it, he’d never settle for us if he were still playing with you.”

Kuroko detects a _fond_ and _proud_ expression in the sudden glint flashing briefly in those dark blue eyes and the tiny upward curve to Aomine’s lips, which the Touou’s ace is not fast enough to stop from showing up on his face. “That baka. Force him to choose between his life and basketball and he’d totally choose basketball.”

Despite the earlier fondness in his eyes, there was something bitter in Aomine’s voice when he said the word basketball. Kuroko suspects it has something to do with the fact that Aomine has stopped playing basketball outside official games after he started avoiding Kagami over a month ago. He might be missing his one-on-ones with the only player that could actually keep up with him and make the sport enjoyable. Or maybe, he is bitter that Kagami is still having fun with basketball without him. 

Whatever it is, Kuroko decides he doesn’t like it. “That’s not true and you know it. Kagami-kun means more than a basketball player to all of us. His presence is too large to be tied down to a mere sport.”

His voice came out firmer than he intended, with a sharp, admonishing tone that surprised even him, in addition to Aomine who is now looking at him with rounded eyes and raised brows. 

“Well shit, Tetsu. Are _you_ in love with him?”

The...accusation? throws him, not because he finds the idea shocking (he is sure anyone who’s ever got the chance to know Kagami has come to love him in one capacity or another), but because Aomine could see it, that he could _say_ it, with an exasperated and alarmed tone, instead of a derisive one. 

Was Kuroko being that obvious in a way that was completely oblivious to himself, or was Aomine just being extremely on edge and paranoid because he’s realized how close he’s pushed himself to actually losing Kagami?

After all, Kagami Taiga is a dangerous man, and Kuroko prides himself on always erring on the side of caution. 

“I don’t need to be in love with Kagami-kun to see him for who he really is,” Kuroko quickly recovers. “Then again, you’ve been in love with him for quite some time now, and still have no idea how to read him.” Might as well deal a blow in retaliation while he’s at it.

Aomine glowers at him. “Shut up, Tetsu. I didn’t ask you to come here to tell me what a failure I am at being a decent human being.”

Maybe he went too far. That’s one of his character flaws, enjoying the adrenaline rush too much to be able to force himself to slam on the brakes before the crash. Or maybe, he actually enjoys the crash, too. Sometimes. “You’re right. I apologize. This is not the talk you need.” He manages to make his usually bland tone sound sincere enough, and heaves an inward sigh of relief upon seeing Aomine losing his defensive posture and slumping tiredly into his chair.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong.” He tries again, this time in a more sympathetic tone, and Aomine stares at him with judging eyes and furrowed brows for a long time before he finally lets out a sigh in resignation. “Kagami...he’s...he’s being an asshole.”

“Kagami-kun...an asshole?” Kuroko has a hard time repeating the swear word, let alone use it in relation to Kagami. “That’s not the word I’d ever use for him.”

“Yeah, I know. You all think he’s a fucking angel or some shit.” Aomine spits out the words as if they’ve left a bad taste in his mouth.

Kuroko raises his eyebrows in genuine surprise. “Don’t you?” After all, wasn’t Kagami being an angel the reason why someone as emotionally-constipated as Aomine fell in love? 

Aomine clicks his teeth and looks away. “I used to. Now I know better.”

“Why is that?” 

There is a pause as Aomine seems to be looking for the right words to say. He looks reluctant to share, but Kuroko knows he’ll say it, anyway. Because Aomine is unpredictable like that. 

“He’s hurting me.”

It feels like a slap across the face, Aomine’s quiet admission. As unpredictable as Aomine can be, Kuroko does not remember a time when the other boy would have willingly put himself in such a vulnerable position. He’d rather have people think him lazy than depressed; self-centered than discouraged; rude and disagreeable than vulnerable. 

Suddenly, Kuroko isn’t sure if he’s really prepared for this conversation. 

“On purpose?” Because the dangerous thing about angels like Kagami is that they might hurt you but never knowingly, so you can’t really confront them about it and have to suffer for it alone.

But Aomine seems to be on a roll tonight, dropping hand grenades into their conversation as casually and carelessly as skipping stones. “Yeah. I keep telling him to stop, but he won’t listen.” 

Kuroko feels like he’s stepped into a dream, where everything is fuzzy around the edges and voices drawl and fizzle and nothing makes sense, but he can’t stop trying to follow the absurd happenings anyway. “Stop doing what?” 

There is no pause of reluctance this time. “Telling me about his goddamn dreams.” 

That...was unexpected. “Ah. Kagami-kun talks to you about his dreams?”

For all his by-the-book behavior, Kagami is also an extremely private person. Kuroko still has no idea what it is that his father does in America, and why he’s never said a word about his mother. To be honest, he doesn’t even know half of the story about Kagami’s past relationship with Himuro Tatsuya; how they met and what caused the rift between them. Kagami doesn’t talk much about himself, and he has a talent for deflecting when confronted with a direct question about his personal life. To think that he talks to Aomine about his _dreams_...now, that is the most bizarre tale he’s heard in a while. 

But Aomine doesn’t notice, or maybe he doesn’t really care, how much that revelation has actually shocked Kuroko. 

“Yeah. He makes up stuff. Romantic shit. About the two of us together. And when I ask him if they mean anything, if _he_ means anything by them, he says they mean nothing. That they’re just dreams and he’s not gay and has no feelings for me.”

The tale just keeps getting more bizarre. Kuroko is sure he has lost any semblance of stolidity on his face by now. “But why would he do that?” 

“Because he’s a fucking bastard.” There is so much conviction and resentment in Aomine’s voice that Kuroko feels a vindictive impulse to fight for Kagami’s honor until Aomine is begging on his knees for forgiveness. 

“Kagami-kun is _not_ a bastard.” He says in a hard tone, giving Aomine a stern, reproachful look. Sometimes, the person you love doesn’t love you back, but that doesn’t make them a bastard; just romantically unavailable. Kuroko gets it, and he’ll be a hypocrite to blame Kagami for not returning Aomine’s feelings given his own case with Momoi. 

Aomine returns his dark look with a matching one of his own. “Tch. You always take his side.” 

Now, Kuroko has to fight for his own honor. “It’s not about taking sides. I just know Kagami-kun isn’t intentionally cruel. Clueless and stubborn and tactless to a fault, yes, but never cruel.”

“Well, how do you explain his behavior now?” Aomine challenges with an unkind cadence to his voice.

Kuroko doesn’t even bother wasting time on trying to find an excuse for Kagami’s totally out-of-character behavior. “I actually can’t think of a reason why he would do such a thing.” Being romantically unavailable is one thing, but leading someone on is just not right. and Kagami is simply not that kind of person. 

“Well, I can.” 

“Really? What is it?” Kuroko asks with a certain amount of disbelief and curiosity. 

Aomine leans further back in his seat, running a hand through his lackluster hair and down the weary lines on his face. He doesn’t look well. Not in a concerning, health-related way, but more like ‘why bother looking my best when Kagami doesn’t care’ kind of way. 

It would’ve been cute if Aomine didn’t look so lost and... _hurt_. 

Aomine turns his head to look outside before starting to talk. “A few days before he started this whole dream crap of his, we were at this dumbass party Kise had dragged us to. I flirted with some of the girls there and they gave me their numbers. Kagami didn’t get any. I told him he’d never get laid with that face of his, that he was scaring all the cute girls away. He got all fired up about it and said he’d even make _me_ fall in love with him if he tried.” 

“You think this is Kagami-kun’s elaborate plan to make you fall in love with him?” Kuroko asks in a tone dripping with skepticism so that Aomine would have no problem seeing how utterly absurd he finds the whole idea.

But Aomine stares back at Kuroko in defiance, and his “Yeah.” comes out firm and inflexible, leaving no room for argument.

Kuroko frowns in confusion. “But you already love him.” 

Aomine drops the defiant expression and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket, hunching his shoulders. He looks oddly small in that posture. “That dumbass doesn’t know that and I’d like to keep it that way. Plus, it wasn’t this bad before he started with those fucking dreams. He keeps putting these shitty images into my mind and now I can't stop thinking about him.” 

“I still think this is not like Kagami-kun at all. Even if he wanted to seduce you, as preposterous the thought as it is, he’d never resort to such underhanded tactics.” 

“See? You’re taking his side again,” Aomine sneers at him. “It was a mistake talking to you about this. He’s practically replaced me for you, of course, you’re gonna take his words over mine.” 

Maybe at a superficial glance, the two aces appear similar in temperament, but Kuroko has been studying Kagami long enough to know that the redhead is _fundamentally_ different from Aomine. Kagami is inherently kind. Aomine is not. Kagami is inherently sincere. Aomine is not. And contrary to popular belief, Kagami, for all his teamwork spirits, is actually more of an introvert person. And Aomine, despite the lone wolf persona he puts on, is actually an extrovert. The fact that he’s here now sharing his thoughts and troubles with him while Kagami has been bottling it all up and trying to deal with it on his own is telling enough. 

“That’s not true, Aomine-Kun. Kagami-kun has enough merits of his own for me to consider him a very dear friend without the need to make him a replacement for you. But I will talk to him, too. Try to see the picture from both sides.”

Aomine doesn’t look appeased, but there is nothing Kuroko could do at this point to gain his confidence. “Do whatever you want. I’m going home.”

“It will be alright, Aomine-kun.” 

Aomine shakes his head as he gets to his feet. “Save your empty optimism for those who need it.” 

Kuroko needs it, so he takes it.

*******

The conversation with Aomine last night troubled his sleep. He woke up in a bad mood, almost missed his bus because he had to look for his school bag for nearly 15 minutes, and stared blankly at the exam paper for half an hour before he started remembering the materials he had been studying for a week for it. 

Kagami looks worse, somehow. Bloodshot eyes, constant yawning, dozing off halfway through the exam with his hand under his chin. Kagami never was a perfect picture for regular sleep patterns, but at least he had the excitement before a basketball match to blame for it. He doesn’t have that excuse now and Kuroko wonders what’s been troubling _his_ sleep. 

Kagami keeps unusually quiet during lunch break, focusing all his attention on his disorganized but still delicious-looking bento and barely raising his head to look at Kuroko. Once or twice, he grumbles under his breath at something that he doesn’t bother to share with Kuroko, frowning down at his lunch as if there’s an ingredient there that has personally offended him. 

He seems to be elsewhere, mouth chewing on food on autopilot but thoughts tangled up in something else. Kuroko knows this isn’t a good time to bring up his discussion with Aomine -- an absentminded Kagami makes for a very poor conversationalist -- but he hates this headspace the Touou’s ace has shoved him into, where all his well-construed theories about the kind of character Kagami has are threatened to fall apart. He needs to get out of this detrimental headspace as soon as possible, and for that, he has to confront Kagami and learn what is actually going on. He needs for Kagami to put his worries to rest; to give him that brilliant smile of his and tell him Aomine has gotten it all wrong and he’s the angel Kuroko has come to know and love and Akashi was totally wrong about him and Kuroko was right and the world is at peace again. 

With a jolt, Kuroko realizes he can’t remember the last time he saw Kagami smile.

“Kagami-kun.”

Kagami gives a ‘Hmm?’ under his breath without looking up. He doesn’t merely look absentminded. He looks...troubled. The skin under his eyes is stretched taut and tender, there is a barely noticeable pallor to his otherwise tan complexion, and he’s been biting so much into his lips that they look chapped and smudged with blood here and there. 

Are these the signs of a guilty conscience? 

“It’s a cruel game you’re playing with Aomine-kun.”

Kagami’s head snaps up, finally giving Kuroko a look of confusion. His carmine eyes look especially vampire-like with those swollen blood vessels and emerging dark bags, giving him an aura of mystery and danger in stark contrast to his actual straightforward and innocuous nature. 

Kuroko has always found himself helplessly drawn to Kagami’s _double entendre_.

“What game?!” He almost shouts, the volume of his voice loud enough to snap some heads in the cafeteria toward their direction. 

Kuroko doesn’t wish for this conversation to turn into a public spectacle, where he levels accusations and Kagami denies them in a particularly raised voice, making it look like they’re having a fight. He doesn’t want this to be a fight. He just wants some peace of mind. And for Aomine to be happy again. 

“You making up romantic dreams about the two of you.” 

The confusion in Kagami’s eyes instantly clears away to give room to extreme irritation. “First of all, I’m not making anything up! They’re my dreams. I fucking dreamed them, alright? And second, they’re not _romantic_. They’re just some stupid random dreams. And third, why the fuck would that bastard Aomine tell you about this?”

Loud. Too loud. Kuroko tries to ignore the attention the two of them are drawing from the crowd of students all around them. Maybe, it was a bad idea talking about this during the lunch rush. After all, Kagami has become quite popular after Seirin’s victory in the Winter Cup last year, and his tendency to keep to himself has only added to his _allure_. 

“Because I’m his friend and he’s hurting.” 

Kagami gives him an incredulous look. “What?” As if the idea of Aomine possibly hurting has never occurred to him; or that Kuroko would consider him a friend. 

“You’re hurting him, Kagami-kun. And I want you to stop.”

Kagami’s face makes a weird, aborted expression that Kuroko can’t decide if it was supposed to be incredulity or vexation. “I’m not...I’m not fucking hurting anyone!”

The eyes are back on them again, with some students closer to the epicenter already whispering about them. Kuroko thinks he heard one of them say _‘are they having a lover’s spat?’_ And another one, _‘I told you that Kagami dude was a delinquent!’_

He pays them no mind, and neither does Kagami, who looks flushed with indignation. What was he thinking? Kagami can’t even hurt an insect. Of course, whatever pain he’s causing Aomine is unintentional. 

“Do you like him?”

Kagami tilts his head to the side, momentarily losing his focus at the abrupt inquiry. “Huh?”

“Do you like Aomine-kun? Is that why you’re telling him about those dreams?”

Kagami reels back in his chair, almost toppling over as the plastic legs of the chair can hardly support his weight. “Wha- no! I don’t like him...like that. What the fuck are you even talking about, Kuroko?”

Honestly? Kuroko has no idea. For once, Kagami doesn’t make _sense_ , and it’s driving Kuroko _up the wall_. What happened to Kagami’s code of behavior? Why isn’t he following the rules anymore? Why would he tell Aomine about his _romantic_ dreams if he doesn’t have any _romantic_ feelings for the bluenette? 

Honestly, someone should give Kuroko an award for managing to keep such a blank expression while going through a complete meltdown. 

“Well, if you don’t like Aomine-kun like that, then you should stop talking to him about those dreams.”

“I can’t! You don’t understand, Kuroko, but I can’t. I have to tell him.”

The note of desperation and plea in Kagami’s voice is confusing the _hell_ out of Kuroko. “Why?”

“I...I just have to. I can’t tell you the reason, Kuroko.”

Kuroko heaves a sigh. He loves Kagami; he really does. Maybe more than anyone he’s ever known, easily rivaling his feelings for his childhood friend Ogiwara in junior high. But sometimes, he hates him, too. For all the things he never shares, all the secrets and the loneliness and the pain. For the towering wall he keeps up between them, for how _goddamn_ unreachable he is, almost non-corporeal, like a ghost that deceptively looks solid but will walk right through you if you reach out for him. Kuroko is glad he was smart enough not to make the mistake of falling in love with him, but he wasn’t immune to Kagami’s charms and he cares _too much_ for the redhead now, and it hurts, and when Kuroko starts hurting, he stops making coolheaded decisions. 

“Alright. If you wish to keep playing your game, then I will have to stop talking to you, as well.”

“What the fuck, Kuroko?”

Even doing this hurts, and Kuroko blames Kagami for it. “Come talk to me when you’ve stopped hurting Aomine-kun. Otherwise, I can’t be your friend anymore.”

The words scrape his throat like sandpaper. He feels like he just swallowed a handful of razors. He reminds himself he’s doing it to save the friendship between Kagami and Aomine, but he’s scared he’d really lose his friendship with Kagami in the process.

“You’re fucking joking, right?”

He waits for Kagami to finally crack under the pressure; to tell him what the hell is going on in that thick head of his that used to be like an open book, with pointers and signs to follow. He waits for Kagami to let him in, to confirm to him that he’s not the _bastard_ Aomine thought he was. 

But Kagami only stares back; wide-eyed and scared but silent. Mouth hanging open but no words passing through. 

He won’t tell Kuroko a thing. Kuroko’s heart makes a rattling noise inside his chest as he hears it crack.

“Goodbye, Kagami-kun. I am really disappointed in you.”

“Kuroko, wait a goddamn second! You got it all wrong!” It takes Kagami a few more precious seconds to finally find his voice. But by the time he shouts after Kuroko, the short blue-haired boy is lost in the crowd of students that are leaving the cafeteria. 

Dread pushes up into his throat and chokes him. He raises a hand in reflex to grab at his throat, but his fingers brush against the cheap metal of the ring hanging around his neck. He clutches the ring in desperation, forcing himself to take a breath even if it feels like there is no air. This is Tatsuya all over again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuroko playing the devil’s advocate, huh. I'm also using Kuroko, with his exceptional observation skills, as an excuse to shove a lot of character study into the drama :))  
> Thank you for the support, lovelies, I really appreciate it <3


	3. Chapter 3

It has been three months since he finally allowed that surgery on his knee, which put an official, albeit temporary, end to his basketball days. He misses the sport terribly, like a caged dove placed on a windowpane with a clear view of the sky, constantly missing the liberating and exhilarating feeling of the flight. But the ever optimistic fool inside him keeps reassuring him that things aren’t as bad as they could be. For one, the surgery was a success, and his last checkup confirmed that the healing process was going well and he could join basketball practice in two months if he kept up his physical therapy. Plus, it isn’t like his life has suddenly become devoid of his beloved basketball. Riko was kind enough (and perhaps, even grateful, though she didn’t show it) to let him supervise the training sessions of Seirin’s basketball team for when she was busy with her studies. Something like an assistant coach, where he could monitor the progress of the team, bark orders in Riko’s absence (it was a guilty pleasure of his to order his cute kouhais around), and see how the team that he founded kept growing and take shape and settle into a formidable force that rival teams would feel equal parts honored and apprehensive to go against. 

Out of all the players, though, he watches Taiga the most. The second-year returnee is truly a marvel with the insane growth spurt he displays in his abilities and techniques. Every time he sees Taiga in training, the redhead looks a tiny bit stronger; his jumps higher; his dunks more impressive; his aura exuding more confidence, his presence more commanding and indisposable on the court. The boy is a basketball prodigy, no doubt about it, but it’s not just raw talent that the redhead draws upon and burnishes to its full luster. There is also determination, dreams and defiance. So much love and passion that it sweeps everyone in its wake and takes them along for the ride, whether they like it or not. When Taiga is with the team, there is a buzzing energy to every step and bounce of the ball. Every shot he makes or assists is like his first, the happiness he shows for even the tiniest progress — his own, too, but especially his teammates’ — incredibly infectious and immensely charming. 

Kiyoshi knows Seirin is benefiting from an ace like Taiga more than anyone actually realizes. Some people’s talents are _toxic_. They are daunting and stunting, and discourage others from making an effort to reach their level. He knows those players from the ‘Generation of Miracles’ are like that; with their elitism and unshakable faith in their superiority. But Taiga’s talents are inclusive. Like a blanket or wings that he spreads over his team. He moves forward on sure, firm steps and drags the team along with him instead of doing the easiest thing of leaving them behind. No wonder Tetsuya calls him his light, as cheesy as it may sound to an outsider. No wonder they managed to win the Winter Cup last year, despite the team being so inexperienced and young. No wonder Kiyoshi is still here, watching over the team, unwilling and unable to let go.

Seirin basketball has a future - a bright one, and Kiyoshi is here to see it through to the end, even if he didn’t have a future in it. 

But in the past two weeks that he was keeping watch, refusing to leave the team even with Riko there, he also noticed some other changes in Seirin’s star basketball player. Taiga’s scarlet mop of hair has started to look like a hairdresser’s worst nightmare, taking on a life of its own and going every direction imaginable; his clothes rumpled and the bentos he sometimes brings to the gym to quickly recharge in-between grueling training sessions looking less appetizing than usual. He has been more absentminded, too; forgetting to bring his water bottle to the practice, and once, even the spare clothes that he needed after a shower in the locker room, prompting Kiyoshi to lend him his own T-shirt as Taiga’s was drenched in sweat and Kiyoshi was the only one close to Taiga’s impressive size. The most prominent and telling change, though, was his eyes; bloodshot and gritty-looking and out-of-focus when he wasn’t playing basketball, with terrible dark bags under them, so bruised that it looked as if someone had punched him in the face. The redhead has been looking awfully exhausted these past few days, a clear sign that he has missed several nights of sleep in a row and didn’t seem to have any plans to change the bad habit any time soon. 

As if these signs weren’t bad enough, Kiyoshi has also sensed a great amount of tension between Taiga and Tetsuya. The two still play in sync during practice, but as soon as the session is over, they go their separate ways. When and why their ways become separated, Kiyoshi would like to find out as he tries to look more closely at the wonder duo. Taiga sometimes stops to stare at Tetsuya’s retreating back, expression openly pained and miserable, hand clutching the ring around his neck, but Tetsuya never looks back. 

Something has to be done. He is called the Iron Heart, but Riko sometimes teasingly calls him the _Bleeding Heart_ , and he has no counter argument to refute it. After watching Taiga being so lonely and miserable while trying so hard to cover it up behind his brash attitude and wide grins, Kiyoshi finally decides that enough is enough. 

He could confront Tetsuya first, if he was fast enough to catch him before the phantom player could make use of his infamous low presence to slip away unnoticed, but Kiyoshi is almost certain that whatever is wrong with Taiga has happened before his current predicament with Tetsuya. After all, Kiyoshi was watching, and he has a keen eye, and the signs of trouble began to surface in Taiga at least a few days before the two second year students stopped talking to each other. 

He catches Taiga after the redhead is done with his shower and dressed in his spare clothes that luckily he didn’t forget to bring with him this time, just as he is done with tying his shoelaces and about to get off the bench to head back home. 

As usual, Taiga is the last to leave, which makes the locker room the perfect place to talk about things that the tall redhead is most likely uncomfortable to share with anyone. 

“Taiga, do you have a moment?”

“Sure,” he agrees pleasantly enough. “What is it, Kiyoshi-Senpai?”

“You’re always so formal with me, it’s cute.” Kiyoshi can’t help the teasing remark, which, as he expected, flusters Taiga enough to give him a faint blush. “I want to talk about you.”

“Huh?”

Kiyoshi directs Taiga to the bench at the far back of the deserted room behind a row of lockers, gently pushing him down to take a seat. The redhead allows the manhandling without any fuss. Kiyoshi suspects the shock factor has a role in it. “I’m gonna be frank with you, Taiga. You don’t look good. In fact, I noticed that you haven’t looked your best for some two weeks. As your Senpai, I think we need to talk about this and find a way to help you with whatever’s been bothering you.”

Taiga gives him a wide-eyed look, always so open and sincere with his initial reactions, but then he makes an attempt to control his facial expressions by falling back on his default ‘fierce and intimidating’ look. “Thank you, Senpai. I really appreciate your concern. But I'm fine. I promise.”

“Taiga, don’t say you’re fine with those terrible dark circles under your eyes!”

Taiga rubs the bruised skin under his eyes as if the action would somehow make the dark circles fade away. “But I've been performing well during practice, haven’t I?”

“This has nothing to do with your basketball, Taiga. This is about your physical and mental health. I also noticed a tension between you and Tetsuya. Are you two okay?”

“No, I mean, of course,” Taiga sputters, already flushed a brilliant shade of red at the lie that he has yet to tell. “We’re just...not seeing eye-to-eye on something at the moment, but it’s gonna be alright. I’m gonna...I’m gonna sort it out.”

Kiyoshi’s gaze falls on Taiga’s clenched hands placed rigidly on his knees, slightly shaking with nails digging into the skin of his palms. It doesn’t take a genius to notice that Taiga has no idea how he should go about ‘sorting it out’. If he knew, he’d already done it, instead of pretending to be fine while staring after Tetsuya with such a heartbroken expression like a bullet train was heading his way, but he had no willpower left in him to jump out of its way.

“Taiga, I’m sorry if I sound condescending, trust me I don’t mean it that way, but...do you have a best friend?”

The redhead gives him an accusatory glare. “What...what do you mean? Of course I have friends.” 

“No, I mean, someone you’re comfortable with sharing your troubles with. Someone you’re very close to, that you don’t feel it necessary to hide things from.”

Ah, there he goes again, like a turtle hiding in his shell. It would’ve looked cute in a startling sort of way on someone with Taiga’s muscular physique if it weren’t so damn counterproductive. “What...what does that have to do with anything?”

Taiga, for all his honesty and straightforward attitude, is truly headstrong when it comes to guarding his secrets. 

“Is that a no, then?”

“With all...uhh, due respect, Senpai, but that’s...that’s kinda intrusive.” 

Taiga would’ve had no problem talking about things that most people would find embarrassing; but take him into an interrogation room and put him under duress, and he would not speak a word about his accomplices even if it killed him. 

It would’ve been a quite admirable trait if Kiyoshi was the accomplice. But right now, he’s the interrogator and he’s hitting a brick wall every time he turns a corner. He heaves a long-suffering sigh and tries again. 

“Listen, Taiga, you have to talk to someone. It’s obvious something’s been troubling you, and I’m worried about you. If you can trust me, I’ll be more than happy to listen. You can’t keep doing this on your own.”

“You don’t...you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then help me understand. I just want to help.”

“Thank you, really, uhh...I appreciate it. But I don’t need help with… whatever’s going on. I’m gonna sort it out soon. You don’t need to worry about me, I’m fine.”

At this point, Kiyoshi would like to believe that he did everything he could; that if Taiga wants to keep his secrets, then it’s his own business, and there’s nothing he can do to break through the younger boy’s iron walls. But in all honesty, he didn’t actually do anything if Taiga was going to feel the same amount of loneliness and pain that he has been dealing with for the past two weeks.

“Okay, I guess I don’t have much of a choice but to trust your judgement on this. At least, get some sleep, kid. Your eyes look like they’re about to sink into your skull.”

Taiga nods his head, “I...I keep that in mind,” and gets to his feet, signaling an end to their totally pointless conversation. 

That wasn’t much of a promise at all. Then again, that’s what you get with kids like Taiga, who have a mountain of secrets in their closets and yet can’t tell a lie to save their lives. 

*******

He promised Kiyoshi that he would sort it out. So he's going to damn try, even if it kills him.

There was no use talking to Kuroko and trying to win back his trust if Aomine was still being an ass. Kuroko wanted him to make peace with Aomine, that much Kagami could understand. But it hurt to suddenly lose his best friend, even if Kiyoshi would argue that it’s not a _best friend_ if you can’t talk to him about things that hurt. Kagami spends almost all his time at school around Kuroko, sharing meals with him, buying him drinks, talking to him about basketball strategies, about their mutual friends, school stuff, and everything in-between that he doesn’t feel like bringing into conversation with other people. Kuroko _is_ Kagami’s best friend. Hell, his birthday is the only one Kagami remembers besides Alex’s and Tatsuya’s, who are basically family, and he even threw a party for him at his own house and baked him a cake, even if he had never baked a cake before in his life. This is the closest he had ever been to someone outside his _family_ , so he’s going to fucking sort it out and cope with Aomine’s rotten attitude with gritted teeth and throw away his pride and apologize if need be, because he needs to have Kuroko back. The pain of going through each day with Kuroko ignoring him is fucking unbearable and he needs to put a stop to it as quickly as he can.

So, he keeps texting Aomine for a whole week, asking for a meet up. Filling his inbox with message after message, unrelenting and determined and hopefully annoying enough to force the blue-haired bastard into action. On the eighth day and to his one-hundred something message, the Touou’s ace finally texts back, ‘ok’. 

‘at maji burger near the court?’

Kagami promptly texts back and waits for an hour, but Aomine doesn't reply. He takes it as a yes. 

‘i’ll see you there at six, ok?’

He waits until it’s half past five and still there is no confirmation from Aomine. Kagami decides to go to the Maji Burger near their favorite street court anyway. If that bastard is there, okay, good, they can finally talk it out and Kagami can persuade him to stop acting like a spoiled brat and let him have Kuroko back. If not, he could just order some burgers and pretend he wasn’t being _stood up_. Then he’d make a trip to Aomine’s house and chew him out for refusing to behave his age. 

He’s about to bite into his fourth burger when Aomine finally graces him with his presence, dropping heavily into the seat opposite him with a groan of inconvenience. 

“You look like shit, Kagami,” he says as a way of greeting. 

They haven’t seen each other for over a month, the last time being that disaster of a meeting when Aomine was sick, and this is how the bastard greets him. 

_Always a charmer, huh_ , Kagami puts his burger away and gives the blunette a mild glare. “Thanks for the astute observation, asshole.”

Aomine frowns. “No, seriously, you look horrible. Like a starving vampire, or a recently-turned zombie. What’s up with those ugly bags?”

What’s everyone's obsession with his eyes lately? “I haven’t been sleeping much.”

“No shit? And here I thought you’ve turned into a goth kid,” Aomine snorts. “I can fucking tell you haven’t been sleeping. Why? Exams keeping you up?”

More like, so his stupid brain wouldn’t conjure up shitty dreams about Aomine fucking Daiki, but this isn’t about that and Aomine isn’t here to listen to his sob story, so he decides go with that. “Sure.”

Aomine buys the lie easily enough. Or it was more likely that he didn’t care either way. “You’re obviously not smart enough to study on your own. Why don’t you ask Tetsu for help?

Kuroko. The thought causes his stomach to cramp and ache, as if a hand has suddenly wrapped around it and is squeezing it with a vengeance. 

“Kuroko’s been...busy. Why does it matter anyway? It’s not like I need to be in a photoshoot like Kise to have to always worry about my face.”

Aomine gives him a disinterested once-over before snatching a burger from the pile on Kagami’s plate. “Your face can’t afford to take any more damage, is all I’m saying.”

Kagami shakes his head with a rueful, lopsided smile on his lips. “Like you give a fuck about my face.”

Aomine takes his time answering, seemingly more interested in squeezing ketchup all over his stolen burger and taking a huge bite and spending a few more seconds chewing and swallowing it down. Kagami waits patiently, because Aomine is an unpredictable asshole and he could just get up and leave right now if he felt like it. 

“No, but I care about what my poor eyes have to look at, and your ugly face is hurting them,” he says without much venom in his voice, eyes fixing on the said ugly face even as he utters those words, and Kagami decides to indulge him, even if Aomine is already too spoiled for his own good, or for anyone else’s, really.

“Okay, fair enough,” he says breezily and grabs a paper bag off the table that he had intended to take home his leftover burgers in, and punches two small, jagged holes in it with a fork and puts it on his head. “Better now?”

Aomine snorts in spite of himself. There is something unexpectedly sad about how dismissive Kagami is about his looks; how fucking oblivious he is to the fact that Aomine is actually in love with that _ugly_ face of his. He wonders how down on self-esteem one has to be to easily agree with a flippant, juvenile retort like that, and if shitty self-esteem is actually the reason why Kagami still has no idea how Aomine truly feels about him.

“Not yet, let me improve your looks.”

Aomine reaches inside his backpack for a sharpie, and then leans across the table to draw a silly imitation of Kagami’s fiery eyebrows on the brown paper bag. 

“There, much better.” He says with a smile that he can’t stop forming on his lips at the ridiculous sight of paper-bag-head Kagami and his quirky eyebrows.

“Did you just draw eyebrows on the bag?” Kagami asks in a mock scandalized tone, placated by seeing Aomine apparently enjoying himself, even if it’s at his expense. 

“Yup, they’re your best feature, after all; can’t have them covered.”

“I knew you had a thing for them, I knew it!”

“Yeah, they’re funky as fuck. Where do you even get eyebrows like that?”

Kagami almost blurts out, ‘from my mom, you rude bastard,’ but thinks better of it and falls back on sarcasm to prevent any trigger of inquiries into his mess of a personal life. “I got them from a shop back in LA; they sell fake eyebrows of all kinds, you can glue them on your face.”

“Dude, seriously?”

Kagami snorts in amusement at Aomine’s silly antics. 

“And they call _me_ naive. You totally need to expand your general knowledge, Aomine. You sound so dumb sometimes.”

Aomine’s face scrunches up, looking clearly offended. “Like you’re any better, idiot.”

Kagami pulls the bag off his head and gives the badly-drawn split eyebrows an amused look before putting it back on the table. “I am, though,” he gives a half-shrug, feeling utterly pleased with himself at having made Aomine look so disgruntled. “At least I’ve been to another country, know a different language and live on my own. You don’t even know how to wash your clothes.”

Aomine rolls his eyes, “Why should I bother? My mom takes care of everything.”

Kagami is about to say, ‘well, your mother isn’t always there to take care of your shit,’ but the words get stuck in his throat and his breath makes a small, hitching noise before he could think of something else to say.

“Yeah, you’re damn lucky, Aomine.” He coughs and wishes the paper bag was still on his head so he could hide the trembling of his lips. “I hope you’re treating Honomi-san with the respect she deserves, or I’ll beat that respect into your ungrateful head.”

Meanwhile, Aomine is trying so hard not to laugh at the absolute disaster that is Kagami’s hair - the wiry blood red strands standing on end after he pulled the bag off his head, making him look as if he’s been electrocuted. 

“You just sounded like my old man, jeez. What are you, 40?”

Kagami notices Aomine’s gaze keeps wandering up toward his hair, lips pressed into a thin line to stop a laugh from bursting out, so he drags his hand through the unruly strands in an attempt to settle them down. 

“Even a five-year-old seems older when put next to you, Ahomine.”

Aomine brandishes his plastic knife at him, “Hey, cut it out, Bakagami. I’m pretty sure a five-year-old wouldn’t run away from a little, harmless puppy the way you run away screaming at the mere sight of one.”

Kagami is about to retort something about Aomine’s equal fright of bees when he realizes what the two have been doing ever since Aomine sat down at the table: _bickering_. Kagami hasn’t been doing that for a long time. Ever since Aomine stopped talking to him over two months ago. No one has ever had the capacity for keeping up with his bickering the way Aomine had. And Kagami realizes with a jolt how much he had missed this. 

“I missed you,” the words come out unbidden at the onslaught of emotions he is suddenly hit with. Sometime between Kagami’s paper bag stunt and Aomine’s playful response to it, Kagami realized that this meeting had stopped being an attempt to win back Kuroko and instead, had become a need to be Aomine’s friend again. “I mean us hanging out. Talking. Playing basketball. I...uhh...I still have the clothes you left at my place.”

Aomine almost chokes on the mouthful of coke he just downed, his eyes widening at Kagami’s confession on their own accord. Why is that idiot talking about this like they’re goddamn _exes_?!

But as always, Kagami doesn’t look like he has just said something utterly embarrassing, so Aomine decides to let it pass with a perfectly-feigned disinterested expression. “Not enough motivation for me to go back.” 

He keeps up the charade of the two of them being exes just for the hell of it. Kagami doesn’t notice a goddamn thing. Aomine sighs into his drink, which used to be Kagami’s and already half-empty when he grabbed it. He wonders why Kagami didn’t complain about his food-stealing habits, and whether this was supposed to be a peace offering. 

“I figured. So like, should I throw them away or something?”

“Do whatever the fuck you want with them, Kagami. You can wear them for all I care.”

He cares. Fuck, he cares so much for this stupid redhead he’s about to burst. There are times when he blames Kagami for every shitty feeling he has to endure. Then, there are times, like right now when he’s sitting right in front of him, that Aomine can’t bring himself to fault the redhead for anything. Aomine suspects the fact that Kagami looks so pitiful with those baggy eyes, unkempt hair and grayish complexion may have a part in it. 

“Okay, I mean, I’m already wearing your T-shirt under this. See?” Then he goes to casually unzip his hoodie, and sure enough, it’s Aomine’s dark blue T-shirt with the basketball evolution on it. It looks tighter on Kagami, with his broader and more muscled torso. It looks really good on him.

It does something terrible to Aomine, seeing Kagami in his old clothes. And that T-shirt was actually a favorite of his; he used to wear it all the time, he’s sure it still smells like him no matter how many times it’s been washed. 

He doesn’t know if he wants to smile fondly at the sight or cry his eyes out.

“You’re still the same baka, I see.” Kagami is giving him a soft, innocent smile, ruby eyes mellow and terribly pretty despite how bloodshot and exhausted they look, and Aomine hates himself for being so weak. “I...uhh, I missed you, too.”

And he means it. He has realized that it’s not so hard to think of Kagami as extremely stupid (yet, endearing) instead of extremely cruel (yet, beautiful), when he’s looking at his eyes and being a recipient of those soft, little smiles. 

The smile is still on Kagami’s chapped, red mouth, and Aomine wants to trace it first with his finger and then with his tongue.

Before Kagami, he didn’t know he could hold so much stifled, futile sexual attraction for someone. 

“So, why aren’t we hanging out?

There are a thousand and one reasons why they shouldn’t hang out, but Kagami’s hopeful expression renders them all meaningless in Aomine’s head.

“We could…I guess.” 

There is no other word for it. Kagami’s face literally _blooms_ like a fucking rose, cheeks flushed red and rounded as he gives one of those trademark blinding smiles of his, and Aomine’s heart bottoms out, because damnit if Kagami isn’t the prettiest thing he’s ever seen in his entire life. 

“That’s really great, Aomine! I can’t wait to play basketball with you! I’ve been practicing a lot, you won’t be able to score a basket this time!”

“Yeah, yeah, in your wildest dreams, Kagami.”

The word _dream_ triggers a barely-repressed memory in Kagami, and the amazing feeling of happiness and contentment suddenly evaporates from his heart. He has been trying so hard to ignore it; has gone two whole days biting into his lip and digging his nails into his palms, breaking skin, stopping himself from rushing to Aomine to talk about his goddamn _dream_. 

But he feels the awful push of it now — the urgency, the anxiety, the fear. All pressing against his windpipe, threatening to strangle him. 

Aomine is resting his chin on his hand, posture relaxed and lazy, midnight blue eyes calm and mesmerizing, and Kagami can’t hold back the words anymore.

“It’s raining, not heavily or anything spooky; it’s actually rather nice, the soft pitter-patter on a pile of dead leaves, and there’s a rainbow, too, really huge and pretty, it’s taken up the whole sky—"

“What?”

“I’m standing in the middle of a forest, and trees have all red and yellow leaves like’s its autumn, and I’m kinda soaked through, but I don’t care.”

Aomine straightens in his seat, giving him a confused look. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Then I feel a pressure on my shoulder, and I turn around and it’s you. You’re looking at me with a soft expression, really weird, and you’re smiling, and you really look like Honomi-san when you smile like that, and you said—"

Aomine recoils in his seat as if to dodge a coming blow, and snarls at Kagami, “Not this shit again!”

Kagami feels his heart beating madly somewhere in his throat, like a caged sparrow hurling its tiny, fragile body against the metal bars, heedless of the wounds and just wanting to get out. Aomine is angry at him again, and he feels so fucking wretched for causing it, but the words keep coming out in a rushed flow as if some outside force has taken control of his stupid mouth. “You said something weird about my eyes, that they look like goldfish in a tank, and I told you about the pet fish I stole from Kuroko, that I named it Ao—"

Aomine suddenly jumps to his feet, snatching his backpack off the seat and stepping away from their table to walk out. Panicked, Kagami reaches out and grabs his wrist to stop him from leaving. 

Aomine pulls his hand out of Kagami’s hold with so much force that it knocks Kagami back into his seat. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” He snarls in a voice loud enough to draw every stranger’s eyes to them, and gives Kagami a look of pain, disappointment and disgust before practically running out of the burger joint. 

Kagami squeezes his eyes shut to escape from those curious looks, but then the betrayed expression on Aomine’s face burns like a branding iron pressed behind his eyelids.

With a guttural groan, Kagami slams his head on the table and cries.

Why does he keep fucking things up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you lovelies for leaving a comment on the previous chapter. I'm usually not this fast with updating fics, because my job takes nearly all my time, but your interest to read more kept me motivated enough to finish this chapter in record time :)
> 
> Soundtracks for this chapter were 'Down in the Deep.' by Wouter Dewit and 'Comfort Me' by Western Skies Motel. I mean, in case you were wondering where all the angst was coming from :)
> 
> Oh, and I have never written Kiyoshi into any of my knb fics before, and it was a struggle to find a suitable voice for him. It’s probably not good enough, but I really needed his perspective for this chapter, so I hope you didn't mind it too much.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how to add warnings for this chapter without giving it away, so just, read at your own discretion? It's nothing major, and remember, this fic has a happy ending.

Kuroko looks down at his watch for the sixth time since he took his seat. Only five minutes before the class starts and Kagami has yet to show up. 

He’s worried, and he’s not sure if he’s hiding it as well as he has been practicing his whole life for it. Except for a handful of occasions, which were more or less justified, Kagami has never been late to any of his morning classes. He would doze off halfway through the period because the subject matter bored him or was beyond his comprehension, but because he is an early riser, he would always make it to the school at least fifteen minutes before the first period started. Not to mention that his house is only a few minutes’ walk from the school. Kagami had told him once, when he had been in one of those ultra-rare sharing moods, that the reason he chose Seirin was that it was the closest school to where he lived. Kuroko has been thanking his lucky stars that Kagami is so academically-indifferent that his only reason for ending up in Seirin right after wrapping up several years of studies in a whole different country was the short commute. Because if Kagami were to choose a school based on its basketball club or academic achievements, he would have never chosen Seirin and Kuroko would have never met his true light. 

Kuroko sighs and checks the time again, biting his lip in worry. He wouldn’t have been in such a state of distress if today was like any other day. But they have an important exam; one that Kagami can’t afford to fail, or he will have to be tutored by a third-year in the afternoons and thus, miss all basketball training sessions for a month and risk Aida’s wrath. That is why Kuroko had been seeing Kagami in the library for a whole week, trying his hardest to study for the exam. It was a pitiful sight, because Kagami and studying would always remain as two irreconcilable adversaries, and more than once Kuroko had found himself walking toward Kagami’s seated form to offer help, but then Kagami would look up from the messy pile of papers and open books around him with a hard expression in his blood-red eyes that would stop him in his tracks. _He’s got this_ , Kuroko thought to himself. Kagami would accept help from friends if you badgered him long enough, but he would never take kindly to pity or charity. It was his own special modus operandi. Everything had a price and Kagami was ready to pay for it; be it winning a one-on-one against Aomine for a pair of basketball shoes, or getting back into Kuroko’s good graces before accepting study tips.

But damn it. Whatever has been going on between Kagami and Aomine, whether Kagami has decided to behave like a bastard toward Aomine for whatever incomprehensible reason, the redhead has never intentionally done anything to hurt Kuroko, and his conscience doesn’t allow him to let Kagami miss this exam simply because he has overslept. 

As Kuroko takes his phone out of his school bag to text Kagami, he is suddenly struck by a horrid realization: no one else in the class seems to be worried about Kagami’s absence. Kagami, despite his compelling aura or maybe _because_ of it, doesn’t have any other friends except for Kuroko, and the only other people he interacts with are basketball players and none of them share classes with him. Kuroko is deeply disconcerted by the realization that he has been isolating Kagami for two whole years. Unconsciously, yes, but the effect remains just as toxic. He has backed Kagami into a corner, making him feel like Kuroko is all he would ever need for a friend, and then he abandoned him. If Kagami was a bastard, then what was _he?_

‘Kagami-kun, where are you? Did you forget about our exam today?’ Kuroko hits _send_ without any hesitation. Two minutes pass, but there is no answer.

‘Kagami-kun, you can’t afford failing Takuma-Sensei’s class. Please get here soon.’

Nothing. The teacher finally steps into the class, makes the usual greetings and proceeds to take attendance. The middle-aged man quirks a thick, gray eyebrow when he calls out Kagami’s name and is met with silence. Kuroko raises his hand in the air. 

“Takuma-Sensei?”

“Kuroko.” Takuma acknowledges in a dry tone. Out of all their teachers at Seirin, Takuma has been the strictest one, and he has been especially the hardest on Kagami because he doesn’t believe in the merits of sports and athleticism at all. To him, you’re either an expert on Japanese literature or you’re not worth the air you breathe in his class. And Kagami, with his fit, athletic body but a very dismal understanding of literature, has been an easy target for Takuma’s ire too many times for it to be funny anymore.

“I apologize for interrupting the class, but Kagami-kun is not here yet, but I know he’s been studying really hard for the exam, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to miss it. May I please make a quick call to make sure he’s gonna make it for the exam?”

The gray-haired teacher takes a quick look at his watch. “Well, it’s already too late for that call.”

“But Kagami-kun lives nearby, Sensei!” Kuroko says with urgency, causing several heads to snap toward his direction in utter surprise. Kuroko had never sounded urgent and panicked to this crowd before. “It will only take him a few minutes to get here, please let me call him, please!”

Takuma gives him a surprised look, taken aback by Kuroko’s pleading tone. 

“Okay. Make it real quick though, or you won’t be taking the exam, either.”

“Thank you, Sensei!” Kuroko bends at his waist in gratitude and runs out of the classroom. 

Despite not having exchanged a word with Kagami for over two weeks, he doesn’t waste a second in hesitation to call his number. Only, there is no answer and the call goes to voicemail.

“Kagami-kun, please wake up! Takuma-Sensei is about to start the exam! You’ve been studying really hard for it; you can’t miss it now! Please, answer the phone, Kagami-kun, please!”

Kuroko stays on the line for a little while, breathing noisily through his rising panic before he can finally make himself to end the call. He stares down at his phone with a deep frown, fingers curled tightly around the edges, hand slightly shaking. He should make another call; as many as it is needed for Kagami to wake up.

“Hey, Tetsuya! What are you doing in the hallway?”

Caught off-guard at being addressed while he was working himself into a frenzy, Kuroko quickly turns on his heels, “Kiyoshi-Senpai!” 

“You look worried. What’s wrong?” Kiyoshi’s voice is laced with genuine concern, and suddenly, Kuroko is relieved that he no longer has to be the only one who is concerned about Kagami’s wellbeing.

“It’s Kagami-kun. He’s late and we have an exam he can’t miss. I’ve been trying to call him, but he’s not answering.”

“He probably stayed up all night cramming and now he’s overslept,” Kiyoshi says with a reassuring smile, but Kuroko easily notices the doubt in his warm brown eyes. 

“Yeah, maybe. Can I ask you for a favor, Kiyoshi-Senpai?”

“Of course, Tetsuya. What is it?”

“Will you please call Kagami-kun’s number on your phone? I’m afraid he’s not picking up because it’s my number.” 

Kiyoshi’s thick eyebrows wrinkle at Kuroko’s confession. Although Kuroko had a suspicion that Kiyoshi had already figured out something unpleasant had happened to Kuroko’s relationship with Kagami, Kuroko himself had never talked about it to anyone.

“Oh. You’re still not on speaking terms with each other?” 

He was right. Kiyoshi knew, and if Kuroko’s intuition and understanding of people’s behaviors are anything to go by, the former captain had learned about it by silently observing the two of them and not because Kagami had told him.

“No, we’re not, and I’ve been regretting it every day since I made that stupid decision. Will you…?”

Noticing the urgency in Kuroko’s voice, the tall brunette nods his head vigorously. “Oh, of course. I’ll call him right away.”

Kuroko waits with bated breath for Kiyoshi to greet Kagami on the phone, but “He's not picking up,” Kiyoshi says with a frown. 

Kuroko’s whole body is now thrumming with nervousness.

“I have a bad feeling about this, Kiyoshi-Senpai. This isn’t like Kagami-kun at all. I'm going to his house to check on him.”

“No, wait. You go back to your class and take the exam. I go check on him.”

“Are you sure?” 

Kiyoshi gives him a soft smile, brown eyes warm and tender, his tone gratefully soothing. “Yeah. Unlike you, I can actually afford to skip my first period. Don’t worry, Tetsuya, I got this.”

There is something very reassuring about Kiyoshi’s large frame and kind smile that Kuroko finds himself hanging onto for dear life. 

“Please, let me know as soon as you get there and find Kagami-kun.” 

“I promise. Now, go back to your class and don’t worry about anything.” Kiyoshi says in a calm tone, giving his shoulder a grounding pat. “Just in case, where does Taiga keep his spare key?”

Kuroko pales at the implication. _In case Kagami isn’t in a state to open the door himself._

“You think something happened to him?” Kuroko forces the words out, his throat constricting.

Kiyoshi squeezes Kuroko’s tense shoulder. “No, I'm sure he’s just sleeping. I just wanna make it quick, okay?” 

Kuroko isn’t convinced, but he nods his head anyway. “He keeps his spare key under a cherry bonsai pot next to his door.”

Kiyoshi gives him a huge smile, “got it!”

Kuroko tries to smile back, but he has a feeling it came out more like a grimace. With a sigh and drooping shoulders, he goes back to his class, while Kiyoshi takes off running toward the school’s main entrance. 

*******

He is not one to easily give in to stress without a perfect reason for it, and even then, he knows a few handy tricks to remain calm in the face of crisis. But something in Tetsuya’s tone has unsettled him in a way that he can’t exactly pinpoint the source of and effectively deal with it. Taiga has been going through a long period of sleep deprivation, and it would be only natural for him to finally succumb to sleep without his own volition and miss school because of it. Kiyoshi knows there is no reason to panic, and yet he feels his heart pounding with a strange aggressiveness against his ribcage as he runs up the stairs all the way to Taiga’s penthouse, not having the patience to wait for the elevator to get to the ground floor.

He grabs the spare key from beneath the bonsai pot before he even tries knocking on the door. He is about to slip the key into the lock when he remembers he should respect Taiga’s privacy before barging in unannounced. He pounds on the door a few times and calls out Taiga’s name, but the silence that greets him in response causes the panic that he has been trying so hard to hold off to wrap itself around his heart like a viper coiling around its prey. His breath stutters as he turns the key in the lock and yanks the door open, rushing into Taiga’s apartment without taking off his shoes first.

The last time he was here was several months ago when he and the other guys from the basketball team were invited to Taiga’s place to celebrate Seirin’s hard-earned championship in the Tokyo prefecture tournament. The final showdown had been against Touou Academy, and it was a hundred times more intense and ruthless than any other game they had ever played against any team. Kiyoshi only watched the game from the bench. It was a week before his surgery and the win made him all the more determined to finally have his leg treated and get back into the game.

“Taiga? Taiga, where are you?” He calls out as he runs through the living room toward what he vaguely remembers to be the redhead’s bedroom. He throws open the door and feels his heart jump into his throat at seeing Taiga’s prone body on the bed.

“Taiga?” He calls out in a loud enough voice, but the redhead doesn’t even stir. He’s in a black tank top and probably some sweat shorts – his long legs sticking out of the sheet wrapped tightly around his midsection and hips are bare. Kiyoshi steps into the room and kneels at the foot of the bed, grabbing Taiga’s shoulder and shaking him pretty roughly.

“Taiga, wake up.” The lack of any response either to Kiyoshi’s voice or the rough manhandling should have already clued him in to the fact that Taiga isn’t simply sleeping, but the panic that has by now wrapped itself snuggly around his throat is hampering his logical thought process. 

_Get it together, Teppei,_ he admonishes himself for having let panic keep him away from doing what he should have done the moment he stepped into the room: checking Taiga’s vital signs.

He never thought he would ever have to do something like that - making sure that someone he deeply cared about was alive - but he has to, no matter how much pain and dread the very idea of it is causing him, because Taiga might be needing help and right now Kiyoshi is the only one who could give him that. With a curse uttered under his breath, he wraps his arm around Taiga’s wide shoulders and lifts his upper body slightly off the bed so that he could have better access to his heart. He then lowers his head on Taiga’s chest and holds his breath as he tries to listen to Taiga’s heartbeats.

“Oh, God.” They’re there, too slow and too weak to be normal, but they’re there and the reassuring _thump-thump_ of Taiga’s heartbeat against the side of his face fills Kiyoshi’s eyes with tears of immense relief. 

While still holding Taiga’s body close to his chest, he grabs the redhead’s limp wrist with his other hand to check his pulse; a weak, fluttering throb under the firm press of his two fingers on the artery at the base of the younger boy’s thumb. _Taiga’s_ _alive_ , the thought expands inside his head like bubbles, but his vital signs are weak and his skin feels cool and clammy to the touch, and he’s unresponsive and with a jolt, Kiyoshi realizes that he should call for an ambulance. He immediately lowers Taiga’s body to the bed and takes his phone out of the pocket of his jeans to call 119. While he gives the woman with the soothing voice on the line the address to Taiga’s house as well as his physical condition, _“His pulse is weak, his skin is pale and clammy, he’s breathing alright, but he doesn’t wake up.”_ , his eyes fall on a bottle of pills on the nightstand. The woman promises him that an ambulance will be there in a few minutes and Kiyoshi thanks her in a trance, eyes still fixed on the small, white bottle of pills that suddenly looks like a bad omen sitting next to an empty glass. As soon as the call ends, he reaches for the bottle and takes a close look at the description. It is in English, and although his grasp on the language is abysmal, he understands enough to know the pills’ intended purpose. _Sleeping pills_. Was Taiga suffering from insomnia, and in his desperation to fall asleep, he accidentally took higher doses than he should have? Or was the overdose, dare he think, _intentional?_

But these thoughts won’t help the unconscious boy on the bed, so Kiyoshi disperses them with a shake of his head and pockets the bottle and Taiga’s cell phone just in case. He figures that it would be much faster if he took Taiga downstairs, so he throws the sheet off and gathers the redhead’s limp body into his arms, sliding one arm under his armpits and the other under his knees, securing his weight against his chest before he lifts him off the bed with a grunt - it’s a struggle but he manages, glad that it was him here instead of Tetsuya, for more reasons than having the physical strength to carry Taiga’s impressive weight in his arms. Seeing Taiga like this, thinking that he’d been too late, it wouldn’t have been easy on a close friend. While Kiyoshi cares a lot for the redhead, he can’t imagine what Tetsuya with nearly two years of close friendship with Taiga would’ve felt in a moment like this, and if he would’ve been able to stave off his panic the way Kiyoshi did to make a rational decision before it was too late. 

He rides the elevator down to the ground floor while carrying Taiga in his arms. The doorman looks up in alarm, asking him if Kagami-san is alright. Kiyoshi tells him he’s just unconscious but he’ll be alright, and he’s already called for an ambulance. They only have to wait a few minutes for the ambulance to arrive, but the minutes last like years to Kiyoshi, who is gripping Taiga’s body like a lifeline, muscles cramping under the strong, well-built physique, fingers digging into the redhead’s soft skin and eyes shifting from the street to the lax features of the boy’s face pressed against Kiyoshi’s chest. 

Kiyoshi releases an audible sigh of relief when the ambulance finally pulls up in front of the building. The two paramedics that step out of the back of the vehicle are both considerably smaller than Taiga, so Kiyoshi takes it upon himself to carry him outside on aching arms and put him gently on a stretcher. The paramedics quickly check Taiga’s vital signs and slip an oxygen mask over his mouth before loading him into the ambulance. Kiyoshi climbs in after them and holds onto Taiga’s hand throughout the short ride to the nearest hospital, stubbornly refusing to think of the reasons why Taiga would overdose on pills, and praying that he’s going to be alright.

  
  


*******

Pain is a funny thing. When it is physical, Aomine has a high tolerance for it. There have been times he had been injured during a game (or a fight) and didn’t even register the pain until the game and the adrenaline rush were well and truly over. There have been times, too, when he had _welcomed_ the pain. Never one to directly inflict pain on himself - he is at once too vain and too detached for self-harm - but he would seek it, most of the times, _initiate_ it even, with the taunts and the punches that he carelessly lets fly, because he has learned, from such an early age, too, that feeling pain is better than feeling nothing at all. 

But that was before _Kagami_. When the only psychological impact he felt from things that hurt was _numbness_. He craves that crippling sense of numbness now. He is sick and tired of the throbbing ache behind his eyes, somewhere deep into his skull, or is it coming from his heart? He can never be sure, because the pain doesn’t _exist_ and yet his stupid mind is convinced that it does. The pain in a sprained ankle or a wrist, or busted lips, is easy to pinpoint, far easier to ignore, until it goes away as if it had never been there in the first place. This fucking pain that he doesn’t know where it comes from, only that Kagami fucking Taiga is the cause of it, has been messing with him for a long time and it doesn’t seem like it will ever let up. 

“Tch,” Aomine clicks his tongue in irritation and opens his eyes to a vast expanse of clear, blue sky overhead. He has been lying prone on his back on the school’s rooftop for quite a while now, trying to sleep and silence the thoughts in his head, but to no avail. It’s not even funny how much he yearns to punch Kagami in his dumb, pretty face and then yank him forward by his collar to lick the blood off his split lips. Damn bastard never leaves him alone; his non-corporeal presence feels more solid and physically there than all the real things Aomine is touching now; even more real than the rough concrete under his palms, more real than the warm sunlight on his face or the humid air he breathes; at times, even more real than his own physicality, when all thoughts in his head are focused on Kagami instead of his own pitiful and utterly meaningless existence. He thinks, therefore Kagami exists; or so the saying goes. 

He is about to close his eyes again and make another pitiful attempt at sleep when his phone gives off a single chime, alerting him of an incoming message. 

“What now?” he grumbles irritably as he flips his phone open. It’s a text from Tetsu. Huh. 

‘Aomine-kun, please call me as soon as you can. It’s urgent.’

Curious, and also slightly alarmed, Aomine taps on Tetsu’s name to make a call. 

Tetsu picks up on the first ring and greets him before he could utter a word. “Aomine-kun.”

“Tetsu? What’s going on? Why did you text me some cryptic shit so early in the morning?”

Kuroko wants to point out that 11 AM is hardly early in the morning, but he doesn't have any energy for that.

“It’s Kagami-kun. He’s at the hospital.”

“The fuck?” Aomine immediately sits up, feeling like his heart has jumped into his throat because of the sudden motion. “How did that dumbass end up in a hospital?”

There is a heavy pause on the other side of the line, which does nothing to slow down the crazy pounding of Aomine’s heart. “The doctors said he overdosed on sleeping pills.”

“What?” Aomine yells, wondering if he misheard Tetsu. “Overdosed?!”

“Yes. He took a high dose and wouldn’t wake up.” Tetsu explains as if Aomine was dumb.

Aomine swallows hard around the lump in his throat, unsettled by the actual implication of overdosing on pills. “Was he...was he trying to fucking kill himself?”

Tetsu makes a little noise that disturbingly sounds like a whimper. “He woke up an hour ago and when we talked to him, he said it was an accident. I don’t know what to think.”

Aomine runs a hand through his hair, tugging harshly at the strands in frustration. He doesn’t know what he feels at learning that Kagami, the bastard he loves more than anything else in his life no matter how hard he tries to fall out of love with, has attempted to take his fucking life. 

“Fucking selfish bastard, always pulling stupid shit like that,” Aomine groans, deciding that what he feels about the situation, for the most part, is immense vexation at the redhead’s self-absorbed antics. It was hard to see, what with his disarming smiles and kind demeanor, but Kagami could be a downright self-centered bastard if he wanted to be.

“Which hospital?” Aomine is already up on his feet as he asks that, deciding to skip school for the rest of the day, because someone needs to beat some sense into Kagami’s thick skull, and Tetsu is simply not up to the task. 

“The one near his house. I’ll send you the address.”

“Okay, uhh...are you alright? You sound shaky.”

Aomine immediately curses himself for having asked that because as soon as he does, Tetsu starts _sobbing_. Actual, honest-to-god sobbing, with jerky gasping and pitiful wailing and everything that sounds like a nightmare to him. All these years, Aomine had never seen Tetsu cry, not even silent tears, and the sounds that the other boy is making now are really difficult to listen to. 

“He could’ve died,” Tetsu says in between the sobs and whimpers. “Kagami-kun could’ve died and it’d be all my fault.”

“Wait, why would it be your fault? You didn’t do anything.”

“I did. I’d been avoiding him ever since we had that talk at the Maji Burger.”

Aomine scowls. “Why would you do that? I thought you didn’t believe me.”

He is climbing down the stairs as he keeps talking on the phone, bumping into other students and ignoring their protests. 

“I just wanted you two to become friends again. I thought if I pressured Kagami-kun by not talking to him, he’d stop treating you like that. I knew how much he depended on me and I just abandoned him and he could’ve died, Aomine-kun...I’m so sorry.”

Tetsu then dissolves into some more ugly sobs and Aomine is at a loss. He’s never been good at comforting friends. The last time he tried it with Satsuki, she told him he was an insensitive piece of shit and that he would die alone if he kept up with that egotistical attitude.

“Hey, hey, Tetsu. It’s okay. It’s not your fault Kagami is a dumbass. And he’s alive, so don’t beat yourself up over something that didn't happen,” he hears Tetsu sniffle and possibly wipe his eyes and nose with his sleeve. Well, maybe he’s not as bad as Satsuki thinks he is at comforting people.

“Are you alone at the hospital?”

“No,” his voice is still shaky, and his breaths are noisy coming out of his stuffy nose, but at least, he’s not sobbing anymore. Thank fuck for small blessings. “Kiyoshi-Senpai is here, too. He was the one who found Kagami-kun unconscious on his bed and called for an ambulance.”

“Okay, good, stay with him and stop thinking stupid shit. I'm on my way.” 

Aomine walks out of the school with the casual indifference of someone who is used to skipping school without any repercussion and hails a cab to the address Tetsu has texted him, telling the driver to step on it and shouting at him, “It’s a life and death situation!” when the driver hesitates to oblige him.

 _What the fuck is going on with you, Kagami,_ Aomine runs a hand across his face and fights the urge to scream in utter frustration. _You selfish, suicidal son of a bitch._

*******

By the time he gets to the hospital after a 30-minute, tension-filled drive both cut shorter because of the speed and dragged longer because of the traffic, Tetsu has stopped crying, but his sky-blue eyes are tinged red and his hair is a mess. Seirin’s former ace, Kiyoshi-something, gives him an encouraging smile in greeting, thanking him for coming as if he’s Kagami’s dad. He’s just one year older than them, and Aomine doesn’t think he’s old enough, or even close enough to Kagami to act as his father figure. Maybe saving someone from imminent death makes you feel responsible for them or some shit. He wonders how Kagami feels about being saved by his senpai like a damsel in distress. Kise would definitely eat that shit up, and Kagami is practically the exact opposite of the blond. Then he wonders if Kagami’s actual father has been notified about the incident; if he’s already on the first flight to Japan to take care of his suicidal son, or if Kiyoshi-something, Tetsu and now Aomine are the only people who give a shit about Kagami’s wellbeing. A bunch of high schoolers playing pretense at responsible adults for a suicide survivor. Fuck. Aomine thought _he_ was the lonely one, with no one really understanding what was going on with him as he started to lose himself to depression; but Kagami has it worse, doesn’t he. At least, Aomine has his parents to take care of him when he comes down with a cold. Kagami doesn’t have any real responsible adult in his life, even when he nearly dies. 

“How is he doing,” Aomine grumbles, not willing to face Kagami just yet without knowing all the details. 

Unsurprisingly, it’s Kiyoshi who takes it upon himself to update him on Kagami’s condition. “He’s doing okay. Doctors said he’s been really lucky, considering similar cases of overdose that take as long as it did for Taiga to receive medical care. They didn’t even need to give him a stomach pump. Just some flumazenil and he was out of it pretty soon. All in all, we’ve been very lucky to have him back.”

 _He could’ve died,_ Tetsu’s quivering voice echoes in his head and Aomine’s stomach churns. Kagami Taiga, the boy with scarlet hair and carmine eyes and goofy smiles and belly laughs and bad grades and short temper but incredible basketball and cooking skills, could have died, and Aomine’s last memory of him would have been a hand gripping his wrist in desperation and sleep-deprived eyes swimming with unshed tears pleading with him to stay. 

“You should go see him, Aomine-kun,” Tetsu’s soft voice hauls him out of the myriad of his depressing thoughts. 

He nods, then takes careful, if not hesitant, steps toward the door to Kagami’s room, and braces himself for what he is about to see. 

“Aomine! You’re here!”

Kagami looks _happy_. Which wasn’t quite the expression Aomine was expecting to see on the face of someone who has just been brought back from the brink of death. He’s in a typical hospital gown, ridiculously small for his large frame, pulling tight across his broad, muscled chest, and there is an IV tube inserted into the back of his hand that he’s brought up carelessly to wave in greeting. But his hair is the same shade of scarlet and his carmine eyes are bright and the corners of his lips are lifted into that dorky, disarming smile, and yeah, Kagami is alive. He’s _alive_. 

Aomine is suddenly struck by an overwhelming urge to first punch Kagami in the face and then hug the living shit out of him. 

He does neither. 

“You fucking moron,” he growls instead, “What the fuck did you do to yourself?”

The smile wanes on Kagami’s pale lips. “Oh...uhh, I kinda overdosed? By accident, I swear.”

“How many did you take, you idiot?”

Aomine steps closer to the bed. Kagami notices he is in his school uniform, much like Kuroko and Kiyoshi, tie askew around an open collar, his blue hair disheveled in a way that it is obvious he has been running his hand through it a lot. 

“Uhh, I don’t know. 5, 6? They were pretty strong though, I didn't know that. And I hadn’t been sleeping much, so they just...knocked me out.” 

Kagami tries to keep his voice light, downplaying the actual gravity of the situation to avoid worrying the blue-haired boy unnecessarily. His doctor told him there was a 60% chance that he couldn’t have made it. That sobered him up. His recklessness nearly cost him his life. The only good thing that came out of this whole mess was that it worked. He didn’t dream about Aomine. He didn’t dream at all. He had thought if refusing to sleep wasn’t going to save him from dreaming about Aomine, then inducing an artificial one with the help of enough sleeping pills might do the trick. But knocking himself out wasn’t an option he would willingly choose again. He might be desperate, but he wasn’t suicidal. 

“I know you’ve been a bastard to me, but don’t go kill yourself over it.”

Kagami arches an eyebrow in amusement at Aomine’s strange wording.

“Shouldn’t it be, though, I know I’ve been a bastard to you, but don’t go kill yourself over it?”

Aomine opens his mouth to retort, barely a minute into talking to Kagami and he’s already back into the habit of bickering with him. But the annoying smell of disinfectant in the air, the dripping sound of the IV bag, the white-wash walls and the terrible faded blue of the hospital gown clashing horribly with Kagami’s vibrant red startle him out of his habit.

Tetsu, justified or not, blamed himself for this mess Kagami is now. And if Kagami, despite his claim, was really trying to kill himself, wouldn’t that put Aomine at fault as well? After all, the last time they met went so horribly wrong that Aomine ended up deleting every picture he had of the redhead. He even went so far as to block Kagami’s number, not strong enough to take any more shit from that bastard. What if Kagami had tried contacting him last night, and when the texts and the calls failed to go through, he decided to off himself?

Aomine has no fucking clue what the fuck is going on with Kagami, but both him and Tetsu suddenly dropping him wouldn’t have been the nicest move to pull against a _friend_ , no matter how shitty that friend had started to behave toward one of them.

He heaves a sigh and drags a hand through his messed-up hair. “Yeah, I guess I haven’t been any nicer to you either.”

His words surprise Kagami, who was expecting a smartass retort instead of that sincere admission. 

“Aomine, thanks,” Kagami carries on the same note of sincerity. “I’m happy to see you. I didn’t think you’d come.”

His words cause Aomine to wonder if Kagami pulled this fucked-up stunt as a last resort to talk to him.

“Don't you ever do this again,” he growls in a threatening voice, deeply upset over his wandering thoughts. He never took Kagami for an extremist; but then again, he barely knows this person Kagami has turned into.

Kagami gives him a solemn nod. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Aomine grunts in response. He doesn’t know what else to talk about. He feels out of place in Kagami’s presence, and he fucking hates it. He thought the next time he saw Kagami, he'd moved on. But here he is, still as deeply in love and misery as ever. Kagami may be an oblivious idiot most of the time, but he sure knows how to steal hearts. 

“Aomine, don't go.” Kagami’s soft voice pulls him out of his trance, making him realize that he has been staring at the door all this time, unconsciously thinking about leaving.

“I gotta go back to school,” he lies. 

“Of course, but I meant, please can we be friends again?” The pleading tone in Kagami’s gruff voice gets under his skin, reminding him why he had decided to avoid the redhead in the first place. When Kagami talks to him in that plaintive tone, there is nothing he would ask that Aomine wouldn’t give him. “I'm so sorry for having been a douche to you. But this near-death experience kinda made me realize that...well, I don’t want to die with you hating my guts.”

 _Hating him_? Is that what this idiot thinks Aomine feels about him? _Stupid, clueless, aggravating bastard._

“I don’t...I don’t hate you, baka. It’s just that…it’s a little too much for me to be around you when you’re like this.”

“Like what?” Kagami asks, confusion clear in his voice.

Aomine exhales loudly. Does he have to spell it out for him? “Like you’re the only thing that matters. Like the whole fucking world revolves around your selfish ass, and what other people are going through doesn't mean shit to you.”

Kagami looks like he’s just been slapped, rounded eyes, mouth hanging open, expression ridiculously fragile. “That’s not...that’s not true. Of course, I care about other people. I care about _you_. I’m sorry if I’ve been selfish, I never wanted to do anything that could hurt you. Please, I’m telling the truth, you gotta believe me, Aomine.”

Aomine makes the mistake of looking at Kagami’s eyes; they’re capable of wearing the most honest expression even if all the crap that comes out of the redhead’s mouth are pretty little lies, and of course, Aomine falls for them every goddamn time. He’s been in a constant state of falling ever since he met Kagami. He wonders if he’d ever hit the ground, and if he’d survive the impact when he finally did. 

“Okay. This is the last chance I'm giving you, Kagami. Don’t fuck it up.”

Then Kagami smiles like a fucking fallen angel and Aomine feels like tearing up. 

Because he knows, as much as he wishes he could deny it, that Kagami _will_ fuck it up. It’s what fallen angels do, after all. Their sheer existence on earth is the result of a major fuck-up. And no ordinary human truly deserves them, much less Aomine, even if all they do is steal hearts and wreak havoc where they don't belong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you lovelies for your support for this fic <3 only one more chapter to go, and we'll finally see what's going on with Kagami :)  
> Sad soundtracks for this chapter were Klangfall (Piano Version) by Joep Beving and Where Time Goes by Takahiro Kido.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do people give warnings without spoiling their stories? Uhh, well, there's some talk about someone's death (not any of the major characters, don't worry).

_I get a taste/ of blood in my mouth/ when you’re near_

_A feeling that’s too painful/ to bear - Archive_

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

The words disperse into the thin air around them like pollen. There’s a weight to the gray sky overhead that Kagami can almost feel on his shoulders, like invisible hands pressing down on him to keep him in place. A storm is brewing, above them and inside his head, and they are both in short-sleeved shirts but Kagami doesn’t feel cold, he can barely feel anything, even as the wind musses up their hair and lifts the hems of their shirts and makes goosebumps break all over his skin. 

It takes Kagami a while to realize they are on a rooftop. And even longer to notice Aomine is standing too close to the edge. And the wind is picking up around them. 

“Tell me.”

He says, or tries to; he hears the words inside his head loud and clear, tinged with a tone of urgency and despair, but he can’t feel his mouth form around them. Aomine is looking at him with the saddest expression Kagami has ever seen on anyone’s faces, and he extends his hand to hold onto Aomine’s fingers that are clenched into fists by his side, to remind him that he’s not alone, that Kagami is here and he’s _seeing_ him and it’s going to be alright, but the weight on his shoulders is crushing and the wind is roaring in his ears like some bad omen and circling their bodies like a vulture, and then Aomine is falling off the roof and Kagami screams himself awake. 

“Fuck.” His mouth feels like dry parchment and his heart is pounding loudly against his chest and the back of his head is drenched in sweat and he feels gross and unsettled, stomach clenched in apprehension. He looks at the red numbers on the digital clock's display, a few minutes before the alarm is set to go off, and runs a hand down his clammy face and curses again. 

It has been ten weeks since he last had a dream about Aomine. Nine weeks since they started hanging out again; playing their intense game of one-on-ones on the old street court on Saturdays until it was time for dinner, so it would be either the nearby Maji Burger for a quick fix, or if Kagami was in the mood (meaning, when he had won the game), homemade food at his place and then Aomine deciding to stay the night because _‘your food makes me so sleepy, Kagami_. _Are you trying to drug me or something?'_ He’s not exactly complaining, Kagami knows that, but he still snaps at him as per tradition, _‘It’s because you eat too damn much, Ahomine!_ ’

Why did he have to dream about Aomine again? And such a disturbing one at that, too. Kagami’s stomach is in knots and his head feels like an iron ball about to break his neck. He’s about to fall back on the bed when the alarm goes off. It’s a school day and Kuroko would worry himself sick if he showed up late. After the overdose incident, Kuroko has been treating him like fine china that would burst into tiny shreds if he stopped looking at him for a second. Kagami would have complained, dammit it’s not like he’s fragile or suicidal or anything, but Kuroko has finally stopped harassing him with his dog or jabbing him viciously in his side or even trying to give him a heart attack by appearing next to him out of the blue, so he begrudgingly considers it a win and doesn't ask Kuroko to treat him like before (he doubts Kuroko would listen to him even if he asked, anyway.) 

Kagami deliberately draws out his time in the shower and wastes too much time deciding what to eat for breakfast. Still, he makes it to school 5 minutes early and smiles that reassuring smile for Kuroko who religiously keeps asking him, _‘How are you feeling today, Kagami-kun?’_ and _‘_ _Is there something you’d like to do today? I can make some time for you after school.’_ Kagami is happy to have Kuroko back as his friend, but he suspects Kuroko still doesn’t trust his words about the overdose being an accident. When he looks at Kagami, his big sky-blue eyes are imbued with immense anxiety as if Kagami may drop dead if he so much as blinks. And Kagami has started to feel guilty, because his carelessness put that anxiety in Kuroko’s eyes and now he doesn't know what else to do to take it away except to keep telling the blue-haired boy that _‘I’m fine, Kuroko, I swear.’_ and _‘Well, not really, but if you’d like to hang out today, I guess we could play video games later at my place?’_

He manages to hold back the itching urge until the lunch break. Then Izuki throws in one of his lame puns about hotels having suite dreams, and Kagami has to immediately excuse himself and run out of the cafeteria into the restroom nearby. 

Once locking himself inside a toilet stall, unsure as to why he feels the need to hide but not in the mood to investigate possible reasons, Kagami takes his phone out of his pocket and sends a quick text to Aomine before he started second-guessing himself. 

‘hey. can we meet for 1-on-1 today?’

It takes the Touou ace less than a minute to reply, ‘i can’t. i’m taking my gf out.’

‘bring her to the court, then. i don’t mind.’

‘why are u so desperate for bball, bakagami? we played 2 days ago.’

‘pls???? next maji’s on me.’

‘K, fine. C u at 6.’

‘great. tnx aomine.’

He’s already put his phone away and left the restroom when he feels it vibrate in his pocket. 

‘i’m bringing my date.’

‘great. i’d love to meet her.’ Kagami's finger hovers hesitantly over the send button. It feels awkward to say something so... _intimate_ to someone like Aomine. Are friends even allowed to say things like that? Would Aomine take offense? After much debate, he deletes the message and just sends ‘cool’ in response. 

Back at their table in the cafeteria, Kuroko asks if he’s okay. Kagami is getting sick of that question, but he answers with a smile that he hopes doesn’t look as fake as it feels, “never better.”

*******

“Hi.”

Kagami stares, mouth hanging slightly open, eyebrows raised over rounded eyes. He knows it’s rude to stare, but he can’t help it. The girl standing next to Aomine is...not what he had expected to be Aomine's type of girls. She doesn’t have big boobs for one, and isn’t mindbogglingly beautiful, like those picture-perfect idols in Aomine’s favorite gravure magazines. She’s pretty though, with dark eyes and dark undercut with white-blond shock of hair on top, tall enough to reach Aomine’s shoulders. She looks smart, athletic and decidedly too good for Aomine, but Kagami manages to keep that thought to himself, if only because he’s too shocked to utter a word. 

“Rai, this is Kagami from Seirin. We usually play one-on-ones on Saturdays. Kagami, this is Rai. She’s on Touou’s volleyball team.”

When Kagami fails to form a proper response in time, Aomine smacks him upside the head.

“Oi. Why are you staring at my girlfriend, Bakagami?”

Kagami rubs the back of his head, finally managing to avert his eyes. “Oh, sorry, it’s just that...she’s just so…”

“I’m so what?” There’s amusement in her tone, and when Kagami looks back at her, he finds her with a little smile on her sharp, pretty face. 

“Normal?”

She laughs, and it’s actually a nice one. Not high-pitched or flirty or anything attention-grabbing, really. Just normal, genuine laughter, with no ulterior motive. “You’re cute. What were you expecting? A godzilla?”

“No, sorry. It’s just that Aomine is...how can I say it -”

“You can just shut up, Bakagami.” Aomine growls in warning, and Kagami has every intention to do just that and spare himself from further humiliation when the girl, Rai, grabs onto his hand and Kagami’s breath hitches in his throat. 

“No, let him say it. I’m curious.”

Kagami feels hot in his face. He’s always uncomfortable around new people, more so around girls who are pretty and confident and grab his hands oh so casually like it’s no big deal.

“Well, Aomine is always going on about...uhh,” He must be flushing bright red by now, that’s how hot he feels inside. “Ridiculously big boobs, and -”

She laughs again, hopefully not in ridicule and finally lets go of his hand. Kagami resists the urge to rub the lingering warmth off his skin.

“You really _are_ cute. Aomine, you bastard, why didn’t you introduce him to me sooner? He’s precious.”

“What?” The two boys exclaim at the same time, wearing identical wide-eyed, scandalized expressions.

She brushes off their comical reaction with a shrug. “Yeah, well you’re right, I’m normal. Or at least, my boobs size is. But I’ve never seen Aomine show any interest in big boobs before.”

“He hasn’t?!” Kagami blurts out, finding the claim hard to believe. If anyone asked Kagami to describe Aomine's three most characteristic traits, boobs-maniac would be one of them. His love for basketball and his lazy ass would be the other two.

“Kagami, I told you to shut up. We’re wasting time. Now let’s get to our game, I gotta take Rai back to her house before 8.”

Rai rolls her eyes at that, muttering something like _'I can get back home on my own, you aho.’_ under her breath. Kagami likes her, and wonders again how Aomine with his rotten personality could land someone like her. Maybe it was the visuals. For all that Aomine lacks in personality and manners, he’s quite well-endowed in the looks department, and for a lot of people, that’s probably enough for a casual relationship. Or at least, that’s what Kagami thinks their relationship status is. Aomine barely talks about her, and has never brought her to any GoM gatherings, and didn’t even mind the fact that Kagami practically ruined their time together by asking to play basketball with him. If Aomine was really serious about this relationship, he was doing it all wrong if even Kagami with his utter lack of experience in dating could see it. 

Kagami takes the ball off the ground, pressing his fingers into the studded rubber, stalling. Aomine lets out an impatient huff, and Kagami wets his lips in nervousness. 

“Uhh...sorry but before that...can I talk to you for a moment?”

He sees Aomine tense at those words, and feels really shitty about what he’s about to do. 

“Let’s just play. We both know how fast things go to shit when you open that big mouth of yours.”

Kagami is about to protest, but Rai beats him to it by ramming her elbow into Aomine’s side and drawing a startled groan out of him. 

“Aomine, behave. Let the poor boy talk. You’re being very rude and unfair to him.”

Aomine rubs the sore spot on his side while directing a betrayed look at his girlfriend. His scowl deepens ten times when he locks eyes with Kagami. 

“Okay, fine. What is it?” 

“Uhh...it’s...it’s about a dream I had.”

“What?” Aomine says through gritted teeth, clenching his fists in barely controlled fury.

Kagami knows he should stop, Aomine already looks murderous and it’s foolish to anger him further, but he also knows if he misses this chance, he won’t get another shot at it any time soon, if at all. 

“I had a dream about you today. It was very concerning, so I thought I should tell y-”

The rest of the words catch in his throat as the breath is knocked out of his lungs when Aomine’s massive body tackles him to the ground and his head hits the concrete pretty hard under Aomine's weight. For a second everything goes dark and numb, like he’s floating in deep space, and there is an incessant ringing in his ears, but then Aomine’s fist comes down on his face and pain bursts all over his senses.

“You fucking bastard! I told you to never talk about this shit again! Why don’t you leave me the fuck alone? What the fuck are you trying to do? Huh? Ruin my life? Is that your big fucking plan? Are my life and my fucking feelings all a fucking joke to you?”

The first punch took him off-guard. He didn’t really see it coming as his vision was spotty and he was still reeling from the harsh impact with the ground. But the next punches after that, delivered in-between Aomine’s yelling, he _let_ them happen. He didn’t know why he deserved them, but Aomine thought he did so Kagami let him have it. Plus, Aomine wasn’t really hitting him that hard. Except for the impact that rattled his skull and the first punch that busted his lips and drew blood, the next hits were mostly directed at his chest, thrown more out of frustration than an actual intention to hurt. Still, as he lays under Aomine like a punching bag, he wonders if he would’ve put up a fight even if Aomine was hitting him hard enough to bruise and break bones. Because there is such righteous justification in every throw of Aomine’s fist that Kagami finds it sacrilegious to put an end to them.

In the end, it’s Rai who pulls Aomine off him. 

“What the fuck, Aomine! Get off him! Are you fucking crazy?!”

She pushes Aomine aside - who then drops heavily to the ground trying to catch his breath and stop the trembles in his fists that still want to smash into something - and rushes to Kagami's side, extending a hand to help him up. Kagami accepts the hand and allows her to pull his dead weight into a sitting position. She holds out a tissue and Kagami gives it an incomprehensible look, not understanding its purpose. He's not crying, is he?

“For the blood,” she explains. 

Kagami grabs the tissue with a muttered 'thanks' and dabs it gently against his lips and hisses at the unexpected sharpness of the sting. It must be a pretty deep gash for it to sting and bleed this much.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he groans. It kinda hurts talking with a busted lip and bruised jaw. And there's blood in his mouth that he wants to spit out but that would be rude in front of Rai so he swallows it and now he really wants to throw up.

“Let’s go, Rai.”

Rai turns her head around, facing Aomine. “No. What are you, a caveman? You have to apologize to him first!”

“Rai, drop it. He fucking knows he deserved it.”

“He didn’t deserve shit. He just wanted to talk to you. He didn’t even throw a punch back!”

“Yeah, it’s because he knows he fucking deserved it.”

“Aomine, you -”

Kagami finally manages to look up at the arguing couple. The pain at the back of his head is insistent enough to distract him from the pain in other parts of his body. 

He pulls himself to his feet with a grunt, stuffs the blood-smeared tissue into the pocket of his jeans and brushes the dust off his clothes. 

“Hey, Rai, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Aomine’s right. He told me to never talk about this to him again. I’m sorry. Aomine, I really am. I’m sorry my dreams make you uncomfortable. But believe me, I mean nothing by them. I just need you to hear me out...” _Why can’t you just hear me out?_ _Tatsuya would always listen with a smile and call me sweet. The only time he hit me was because of goddamn basketball._ “...that’s all there is to it, I swear.”

“Why the fuck do I have to torture myself by listening to that gay shit when you say you’re not even interested in me?”

There is something in those eyes (terrified, vulnerable, fragile) and in his voice (desperate, hurting, lost) that Kagami understands better than the underlying meaning to those words; he has always been bad with words, people said things that they didn’t mean and Kagami believed them anyway, but eyes...those he could read if they were expressive enough, and Aomine's eyes right now may as well be flashing neon lights against a dark background.

It’s horrifying to realize it now; like an electric shock to his system. He no longer registers the throbbing pain at the back of his head or the sting in his split lips. Has that raw, helpless emotion always been there in Aomine’s eyes or has Kagami been so blind?

“Aomine, do you...do you like me?”

Aomine’s eyes widen and his breath makes a little, high-pitched noise as it escapes through his lips, but he says nothing, looking back at Kagami like he’s contemplating a hasty retreat. Rai’s eyes shift between the two of them, cautious and guarded, and Kagami would’ve taken this conversation elsewhere if he was thinking straight. 

“Please?”

“I don’t like you.”

Kagami’s tense shoulders sag in relief at hearing those words, but Aomine continues in a grave tone, “I don’t think what I feel for you is as simple as that. If it was just a simple case of interest, I’d lose it the moment you started behaving like a total asshole to me.”

“What...what is it then?” Kagami asks even though he’s scared of what he might get for an answer. 

Aomine’s scowl deepens, but his eyes are still as open and vulnerable as before. “Put two and two together, Bakagami.”

Kagami’s eyes sting and he feels his eyelashes stick together when he blinks. He did that to Aomine. He hurt him because Aomine _loved_ him. He refused to listen to the dreams, which he kept calling _romantic_ , not because he was homophobic or just wanted to keep things clearcut between them as strictly rivals-turned-friends, but because he _loved_ him. Suddenly it all starts to make a completely different sense to Kagami. When Aomine asked if he was gay, it wasn’t accusing. It was _hopeful_. When he told Kagami not to talk about those dreams, when he yelled and threw insults and basketball shoes at his head, he wasn’t trying to be an asshole. He was being _selfish_. Because he _loved_ him. Aomine fucking Daiki _loved_ him and it hurt him. The unwanted, unrequited feelings hurt him, so he hurt Kagami back because he thought Kagami was messing with him. 

Kagami has to fix this. Now that he knows why Aomine has been hurting and hurting him back in retaliation, he knows how to fix this. It won’t be easy, and it’ll come with a price, but this kind of pain is fucking awful and Kagami refuses to knowingly be the cause of it. 

“I’ll tell you,” he sniffs, hoping that he won’t start crying like a baby in front of Aomine and his _girlfriend_ , who, Kagami suddenly realizes, has by now distanced herself from them, walking toward the bench, picking up her stuff and leaving the court without saying a word to either of them. Aomine doesn’t seem like he noticed her absence, dark blue eyes only focused on him. Kagami would’ve felt bad for her if he wasn’t already feeling so fucking wretched over Aomine. 

“I’ll tell you why I’ve been doing this. I wasn’t going to because I didn’t want to burden you with this; to...to give the curse to you, or anyone else -”

“What? What _curse_?”

Kagami draws in a long, shuddering breath. “The _Yumenoroi_ curse. It won’t affect you as long as you don’t know about it. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn't want to give you the curse. I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, Aomine. I know I’ve said this a million times, but I meant it. Every damn time.”

For all the good that it did to either of them. For whatever worth that it was.

“Tell me. Just fucking tell me.” 

_Okay_ , Kagami licks the lingering blood off his lips and the tangy taste doesn’t make him want to hurl anymore.

“When I was a kid, my mom…,” Kagami almost chokes on the word (hasn’t used it in years; hasn’t even thought about _her_ in so long _)_ , and the onslaught of memories long suppressed washes over him and drags him under, but he owes it to Aomine for all the pain and suffering Kagami unknowingly put him through, so he forces himself to go on. Even if he never told this to anyone. Even if he had promised himself to never revisit this memory after he finally managed to bottle it all up and shove it to the deep recesses of his mind. Even if it hurts talking about it like nothing has ever done. The lock is broken now and the memories like wild, hungry beasts are upon him and he wonders if he’ll survive.

Kuroko once said he had a flair for the dramatic. Kagami thinks maybe he had a point after all. 

“She told me if I ever had a dream about someone special to me, I had to immediately tell them about it or something bad might happen to them. One day I woke up from a dream about her, I was nine and I was so scared, but mom...she’d been at the hospital for a month. She kept getting worse and that day she was going to have surgery. I begged dad to take me to the hospital the moment I woke up. I knew I had to tell mom about the dream or something might happen to her. But dad had to take care of some work and by the time we finally got to the hospital mom was already in the operating room. I begged and screamed and cried for the nurses to let me into the room, but they didn’t, and dad had to take me outside to calm me down. I didn’t get a chance to tell mom about the dream and now she was undergoing surgery and…” 

Kagami stops to take a breath; it rattles in the hollow crevices of his lungs. He’s looking down at his shoes (the very same ones Aomine had given him last year; they're still in good shape and Kagami had seen no reason to replace them just yet), not ready yet to face Aomine looking as haggard and _broken_ as he does.

“She didn’t make it. And I blamed myself for it. I thought, if I had been able to tell her about the dream before the surgery, she’d be still alive…” _They took her away on a gurney, down the long, narrow corridor with bright white ceiling panels, little Taiga stretching his short arms toward her, his body trying to wiggle out of his father’s unyielding hold. Tears and snot dripping into his mouth, he kept screaming, ‘No, mom, no!’ A few days later at the funeral, with his little hand firmly held by his father’s much bigger one, his red eyes glassy and haunted, staring at the ground where the coffin holding his mother’s body was being lowered into, he told his father in a vacant tone, ‘Dad, I think I killed mom.’_

“I...I know it sounds childish. You probably think it’s all crappy bedside stories for children but...on the off chance that it’s true...if I could tell mom about the dream and she was still alive today...I just...I don’t want to take any chances with you, Aomine.” Kagami finally looks up at Aomine and draws in a sharp, ragged breath. The other boy looks... _stricken_. Like he’s been struck down by lightning. Frozen to the spot. Midnight-blue eyes wide and unblinking. Thin eyebrows that were always set in a frown now resting lax and slightly curved over troubled, stormy eyes. 

Kagami runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the end of the messy, coarse strands hard enough to wince. The invisible pain inside him is stretching, filling up the holes inside his chest like some viscous liquid, suffocating him and he needs release.

But Aomine has yet to say a word, so Kagami keeps talking. He can’t mess this up. Not after he realized Aomine has been in _love_ with him. Not after he forced himself to talk about his mother and live through that trauma again. If he fails to mend his relationship with Aomine today, there won’t be anything else he could do to keep the two of them together. It will be over, everything they have built together, the fierce rivalry and the easy friendship and the good times and the sad times, will be all over, and Kagami, with clarity of mind, knows that’s not something he’d ever want to happen to them.

“If telling you about the dreams could keep you safe, then I’d do it, even if you hated me for it. I’m really sorry, Aomine. I don’t know why I keep having these dreams about you. I don’t know if they mean I’m in love with you, if they’re my suppressed feelings for you...I have no fucking clue. How do you know these things, anyway?” Kagami lets out a nervous laugh, looking away from Aomine’s still stricken face. He’s grateful that Aomine is letting him talk, the first time in fucking forever, but he’s also nervous about what Aomine is thinking right now, anticipating his reaction. Would it be another punch to the face, or would he just walk away and never contact him again? Kagami wouldn’t mind the punch if it meant Aomine would stay.

“The only thing I know is that...I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I...I really cherish the friendship we have, Aomine. And I think you’re gonna be a great pro basketball player, and you deserve to live a happy life. You deserve to have your dreams fulfilled and I don’t want my stupid ones to take all that away from you.”

“Stop.”

Kagami does, head snapping up to look at Aomine’s face, the rest of the words he was about to say dying on his tongue. There have been only three instances where he felt truly scared. When his mother was having that surgery and he couldn’t tell her about his dream, when Tatsuya punched him in the face and ripped off the ring around his neck and told him they weren’t brothers anymore, and now this, when Aomine could walk away after Kagami told him things that he could never tell anyone else before. 

“Please stop,” Aomine says in a choked voice, despite Kagami remaining dead silent as if all words have suddenly deserted him. “You fucking idiot.”

“I’m sorry,” he’s said that so many times he fears that the words mean nothing to Aomine anymore. 

“Shut up.” 

Kagami presses his lips together, heedless of the freshly scabbed-over cut that bursts open under the pressure. He’s startled by Aomine’s sudden proximity, squeezing his eyes shut and bracing himself for the punch. Instead, he finds Aomine’s arms wrapping tightly around him, his chin coming to rest on his shoulder. 

“Tell me you love me.” His voice is restrained, and Kagami hears him sniff and the spot he’s resting his chin on starts to feel wet.

Kagami raises his arms and tentatively puts them around Aomine’s shoulders, returning his hug. It’s stiff, and awkward, and slightly painful but it’s perfect because Aomine is not leaving him. In fact, he has never been both physically and emotionally closer to Kagami than he is right now. 

“Of course I love you.” It comes out so naturally, so easily, that Kagami knows it must be true. 

“Good.” Aomine sniffs one last time before letting go of Kagami. His eyes are red-rimmed and his cheeks are damp but he doesn’t try to wipe the tears away. He probably isn’t even aware that they’re there. He’s smiling through the tears and Kagami wants to wrap him in his arms again. “Then we’ll make this work.”

“But you’re already dating Rai.” Kagami says, confused at what Aomine meant by ‘making it work’.

“It’s been only a few weeks and we never even kissed once. What’s that compared to what I’ve felt for you for over a year?”

Kagami gasps. “Why...why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you’re a fucking clueless idiot that only thinks about basketball. And then you started telling me about these dreams which I thought it was your way of confessing to me but you kept saying they meant nothing and I thought you were fucking with me...what was I supposed to do?”

Kagami’s shoulders slump and he lets out a sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m really clueless when it comes to a lot of things about human relationships, aren’t I?” He gives a self-depreciative laugh at that. “Tatsuya used to tell me I was emotionally detached, that it was a coping mechanism I developed after my mom died, this...inability to connect with people on an emotional level...because I...because I was afraid they’d leave me, or I’d hurt them if I got too close. But if I’d known you liked me, I’d have been happy to be something more than a friend to you.”

“Well, now you know,” Aomine says in a soft voice, his eyes showing understanding, but also hope and fear. “What’s your answer?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Aomine Daiki, I’d be happy to be something more than a friend to you,” Kagami says with a smile. He has never been more certain about the jumbled mess of his feelings than he is right now, and it feels great. Feeling clear-headed after years of floating aimlessly through mist and smoke is fucking great.

And the smile that blooms all over Aomine’s still damp face is fucking beautiful and Kagami wishes he could capture it in his mind forever. 

“I’d fucking kiss you right now but I have to break up with Rai first.”

Kagami nods in understanding, and is startled a bit when he feels Aomine’s thumb sweeping gently under his lip, wiping the thin trickle of blood away. 

“I’ll be here. I’ll always be here for you.”

Aomine sighs, stepping back. “I know. Emotionally detached or not, you never run away from a challenge.”

“You think you’re gonna be a challenge, Aomine?” Kagami says with a teasing smirk.

“Loving someone like me will be,” he says with a half shrug. 

“Then, challenge accepted.”

Aomine reaches out to grab his hand, lacing their fingers together. It’s a tender gesture, full of trust and hope and promises of doing better by each other. 

“Now, tell me about your dream.”

Kagami squeezes Aomine’s hand and for the first time since he was cursed by the burden of dreams, his heart feels fully at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning to add the epilogue to this chapter, but somehow the epilogue turned into three parts of its own, so I leave it for the next update. Some things will become clear in the last chapter, so make sure to read it even if the story seems like it's over (it's not.)
> 
> Sad soundtracks for this chapter were 'Winter Tree' by inalbis and 'Away' by Dakota Suite & Quentin Sirjacq
> 
> Thank you for reading. Comments are really appreciated.


	6. Chapter 6

“Dreams are not a curse,” Kawata-san, a middle-aged woman with bright, intelligent eyes looking kindly at him behind horn-rimmed glasses and light brown hair neatly arranged in a bun tells him in her sophisticated, yet soothing, voice in the fifth session of his dream therapy.

The sessions have been arranged and _paid_ for by Akashi (as a belated apology for the _scissor incident_ that happened when the two first met), who learned from Kuroko (who had, in turn, learned from Aomine, because Kagami had refused to tell Kuroko himself and get him involved with the _curse_ ) that Kagami was in need of some counseling regarding his dreams, and if there was someone proficient in the field he could recommend. 

Kagami agreed to go to therapy without any fuss since it was the least he could do to make up for what he had put Aomine through all this time, even if Aomine insisted that the idea of the therapy was also _his_ penance for how shitty he had treated Kagami. At first, he thought it was a waste of his time and Akashi’s money, because Kawata-san, with all her impressive educational background and numerous achievements adorning the pale blue wall behind her, did not believe in the _Yumenoroi_ curse. But she was patient with him, listening carefully and with much interest to Kagami’s side of the story, and by the time she told him ‘Dreams are a healing process,’ he was more willing to listen to _her_ side of the story than he was a few weeks ago. 

“Based on what you’ve told me in the past few sessions, it is obvious that your mother loved you. Why would she give her son, whom she loved so dearly, a _curse_ of all things?”

It’s a reasonable question. One that Kagami had asked himself so many times before he finally gave up on ever finding a reasonable answer to it and just accepted it as something that is, independent of any need for logical explanations. 

She doesn’t press the question upon seeing Kagami’s conflicted face; instead, she asks him something else. 

“When was the first time she talked to you about the curse? Do you remember?”

He does, despite all his efforts not to. He wasn’t able to say a word about his mother until the third session; now though, he doesn’t find it as impossible a task as before. There is such a peaceful lilt to Kawata-san’s voice that like hypnosis, almost lulls Kagami into opening up about all of his deep-seated, badly-stitched-up psychological scars without any fear of _bleeding out_. He trusts her to help stitch him back up if his wounds started to bleed too much. 

“Yeah. When mom’s health began to get worse and she started her treatment, spending more time at the hospital than she did at home, I...I began having these...dreams. Awful dreams, about losing her. Waking up next to her and finding her...dead. I’d wake up crying and screaming and clinging desperately to her, and she’d ask me about the dream but I couldn’t say a word. I was so scared that talking about it would make it real. So, when the dreams didn’t stop, mom told me about the curse. That if I had a dream about someone special to me and didn’t tell them what the dream was about, something bad could happen to them.”

Kawata-san nods her head in understanding. She never interrupts him even if he talks for half an hour non-stop. It’s...nice. Being able to talk so much after having kept it bottled up for so long and not being judged or ridiculed for it is nice.

“Did you start telling your mom about your dreams, then?”

“Yeah. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.”

“And after you finished talking about the dream, what would she do?”

For some reason, it’s not as painful or difficult as it was in the first few sessions to remember and talk about his most repressed memories. He wonders if this new development means that the therapy is working. “She...uhh...she’d wrap her arms around me and press me to her chest and tell me she wasn’t going anywhere. That she’d never leave me. That there was nothing to be scared about because she’d always be here with me.”

“How did you feel after that?”

That’s...that’s an odd question, because Kagami has never really given it any thought before. But Kawata-san is waiting for his answer, ever so patiently, so Kagami tries to recall his feelings from many years ago. “I...I felt...I felt good. Relieved. Safe. I was a child and I didn’t know my mom’s condition would only get worse, so when she promised me that she’d never leave me, I believed her.”

The middle-aged woman is giving him a kind, encouraging smile, and Kagami starts to feel less like a fool for having believed that his mother would never leave him. “Do you see it, now, Taiga? Why your mother would tell you that story about the curse?”

Kagami tries to retrace Kawata-san’s questions and his answers to them. “Because...because she wanted me to talk about my dreams?”

The smile on Kawata-san’s face deepens and her bright hazel eyes begin to sparkle, looking at that moment like a proud teacher praising her prodigy student. Kagami had never had any teacher look at him with that proud expression.

“Yes. Your mother was worried about you. You were having these anxiety dreams and you couldn’t talk about it, and she didn’t know how else to make you open up, so she made up that story. It was effective, yes, but it wasn’t without its harms.”

Kagami keeps quiet, his mind in overdrive at the words and the implications that seem so obvious and logical he wonders why he didn’t think about it like that before.

“Taiga, take it from someone who’s dedicated all her life to dreams: Dreams are not a curse. They are a reflection of your subconscious thoughts, of your worries and anxieties and fears. All your subconscious needs is a little trigger from the outside world, an image, a wayward thought, a lingering smell or taste, to delve deep into the innermost layers of your psyche. Our mind likes to exaggerate, to blow up the reflections out of proportions because that’s how it entertains itself while we’re asleep, and also because it can, so why limit itself? The more imaginative we train our minds to be, the more colorful and exaggerated our dreams will be. Think of it as special effects in the movies. The more budget you have at your expense, the more professional artists and technicians to do the job, the more realistic, and if it’s for a horror movie, the more terrifying the special effects will be. Your dreams are not a curse, Taiga. They’re just a movie. If there’s any meaning to them, it’s an exaggerated portrayal of your emotional and mental state. Sometimes, their whole purpose is to entertain your brain while you’re asleep. You don’t have to be afraid of your dreams. They can’t hurt anyone, and you have to stop allowing them to hurt you.”

At the end of the tenth session when his therapist tells him, “neither you nor your dreams were at fault for your mother’s death,” Kagami feels he’s ready to finally accept that his dreams are just dreams, like everyone else’s, and that the _Yumenoroi_ curse wasn’t the reason why he lost his mom because it doesn’t exist.

*******

He was nine when his mother died. That in itself would have been a truly traumatic experience for any child, but for Taiga, who blamed himself for his mother’s death, it was even more harrowing and impossible to reconcile with. His nightmares got worse, to the point where he would sometimes refuse to sleep, because this time, his mother was no longer there to hold him in her arms and lie to him in her sweet, soothing voice that everything was going to be alright. He was a mess and his father was in despair. Upon suggestions from sympathetic coworkers, he took his son to a child psychologist, but Taiga couldn’t talk. The wound was still fresh and the pain was too close to the surface and it choked him every time he opened his mouth to say he wanted his mom. After several sessions of therapy that led to no concrete results, with Taiga still having nightmares and being unable to say a word, his psychologist finally suggested a change of scenery. She told his father that Taiga was young and children forgot easily if they stopped being constantly exposed to visual triggers. His father, already at his wits’ end, didn’t take much convincing. He asked for a transfer, which landed him quite a lucrative job in the US. Taiga didn’t want to go. His mother was in Tokyo. But he was only a nine-year-old child and he couldn’t live on his own and make his own decisions. For a whole year after they moved to the US, everything was just _worse_. Taiga struggled with the language despite having a competent and patient private teacher, and his oddly-colored eyes and oddly-shaped eyebrows and the inability to communicate set him apart from his peers. He was labeled as the foreign kid with funny eyebrows and scary eyes, and he got bullied and roughened up on a regular basis but soon learned when to dodge and how to throw a punch to minimize the number of bruises and scrapes he went home with. It wasn’t until he met Tatsuya and through him, learned how to play basketball and make friends, that things started to get a little more tolerable. 

Still, no matter how much progress Taiga made throughout the year, drowning himself in school activities and street basketball and unsupervised adventures with Tatsuya far outside the safe, upscale neighborhood he lived in, he was still a complete mess on the anniversary of his mother’s death. The only thing that could console him on that terrible, tragic day that seemed to be on an endless loop was to be near his mom, so his father started taking Taiga back on a week-long trip to Tokyo to visit his mother’s grave and feel more physically close to her. 

When Taiga reached 16, he mustered up the courage and the determination to tell his father he wanted to move back to Japan and live there permanently. His father was strongly opposed to the idea, of course. His business was booming and he wasn’t sure how his son would cope with being constantly close to the root of his trauma on his own, even though the wound was as old as seven years by now and Taiga looked stable and confident and it had been some three years since he had an _episode_. But Taiga had a way of wearing him down with his constant badgering, and he had become quite skilled in shoving the signs deep under his skin so no one could see even the faint outline of them. 

He moved back to Japan on his own. His father, despite what Kagami later told others, had never been part of the homecoming plan. And the only times the father and son reunited and got to see each other in person was on this special, terrible day: his mom’s death anniversary. 

Kagami Hiroya, standing almost two meters tall with broad shoulders and a hard-set jaw, clad in a form-fitting, designer suit, cuts an imposing figure in Kagami’s modestly-decorated living room. His dark hair is meticulously slicked back and the square, full rim glasses perched on top of a long, straight nose over sharp, red eyes give him a professional, no-nonsense look. Still, there is an unmistakable warmth in his eyes and a gentle curve to his mouth as he puts his small suitcase down to give his son a proper hug. 

“Dad, I’m glad you made it,” Kagami says with honesty as he leans back to take a look at his father’s face that people said looked almost identical to his own, despite the lack of thick, split eyebrows and the different shape of their mouths. They keep video calling every month or so, making sure the other is taking proper care of himself living on his own, but seeing his father in person feels totally different. 

“You look good,” he comments with a happy smile and is a little startled when his father gently grabs him by the chin and turns his face from side to side. 

“And you look even better, Taiga. Better than I’ve ever seen you, in fact,” he says in a soft tone, always extra gentle with him when even slightly alluding to Kagami’s traumatic past, and Kagami easily hears the words that he does not say. Today is the day his mother passed away eight years ago and every year Kagami looks a mess on this particular day, but right now he can’t stop smiling and he knows his eyes must be shining and free of the usual dark bags under them because he actually managed to get a good night’s sleep last night, and he has to thank Kawata-san for them, and one other person in particular.

“That’s because I feel better, dad.” Kagami motions for his father to take a seat on the couch. It has been a long flight and Hiroya looks slightly jetlagged under his stoic and commanding expression. 

“I’ve been seeing a therapist.” Kagami drops the bomb with a sheepish look on his face.

As he expected, his father looks genuinely surprised. “Oh?”

Kagami has always been difficult with therapists, always throwing a tantrum and refusing to see one, saying he didn’t need therapy because he was doing fine. It had given his father much pain until Hiroya stopped forcing him to do what he didn’t want to do. Taiga has always been like that. Stubborn and assertive and fiercely independent, sometimes much to his father’s chagrin. 

“A very good one; one of the best in her field, which is dream therapy.”

Hiroya frowns at that. “I didn’t know you were still having trouble with your dreams.”

Kagami looks away, a soft blush of guilt tinting his cheeks. Obviously, he never told his dad anything about the Yumenoroi curse, afraid that the _curse_ would be passed on to him. The thought now makes him want to laugh. He had been so fucking silly all this time, so superstitious, believing in curses and shit. Kawata-san had reassured him that it had nothing to do with stupidity. His case wasn’t one that could have simply gone away if he had forced it through the sheer power of rationality. She told him he had been traumatized, and the wound had been left unattended for too long and he needed outside, professional help to have it treated. Still, Kagami doesn’t mind laughing at himself and at his fears that all sound so silly right now. It makes him feel better, so why not? 

“Well, they only started to get bothersome again a few months back. A friend of mine, Akashi Seijuurou, the Rakuzan captain I told you about, he suggested I go see her, and it really helped. Kawata-san told me lots of interesting stuff about dreams and she helped me finally accept the fact that I had nothing to do with mom’s death --”

“Oh, Taiga,” his father reaches out and grabs Kagami’s hand, a look of concern, sympathy and warm affection on his face. 

Kagami smiles down at his father, always grateful for his support and patience all these years. “I’m alright, dad. I’ve finally reconciled with mom’s death. It took me too long to address it, I thought if I ignored it long enough it’d go away, but I was wrong and I got help and I feel so much better now.”

“Taiga, you have no idea how relieved hearing that makes me feel. You have always been so strong and I’m really proud of you, son. ”

Kagami wets his lips, suddenly feeling a little nervous about what he is going to reveal next. “Thanks, dad. Ah, there’s something else, too. Something besides the therapy that made me feel better.”

His father gives him a curious look, but his eyes are sharp and he can already guess what Kagam is hinting at. 

“I met someone. I mean, I’ve known him for a while but we just got together, you know, romantically, and he’s been really supportive and he helped me a lot and I...I really love him, dad.”

Hiroya gives him an encouraging smile. “Who’s the lucky guy, then? Someone I know?”

Kagami smiles back and nods, no longer feeling nervous. It wasn’t that he had thought his father would chastise him or judge him for his sexual preferences. It’s because he’s dating someone for the first time and it’s a big deal given his history and issues, and he doesn't want anything to go wrong now that he has allowed himself to be vulnerable again. Plus, Aomine is important to him in a way no one has ever been, and he wants his dad to accept and like him the way Honomi-san has accepted and liked Kagami. 

He turns his head to the side, looking toward the direction of his bedroom. 

“Aomine? You can come out now.”

Hiroya gets to his feet as the blue-haired boy approaches him slowly, hesitantly. He looks nervous and shy, which Hiroya finds adorable considering he’s almost as tall as him. 

The boy extends a hand toward him western-style and Hiroya shakes it without any hesitation. 

“Aomine Daiki, sir. I’m...Kagami and I are,” he coughs, clearly embarrassed. “We’re dating.” 

“Oh, so I can finally put a face to the name. Taiga has told me a lot about your basketball skills.”

Kagami grins widely at that and drapes an arm around Aomine’s shoulder. The slightly taller boy is startled at the sudden gesture but soon relaxes in Kagami’s hold. 

“His basketball is the best, dad. You gotta watch us play while you’re here. It’s even more entertaining and intense than those NBA matches we watched together.”

Aomine smirks at his grinning boyfriend. Seeing Kagami this genuinely happy makes him feel lightheaded and so terribly warm inside. “Full of ourselves, are we?”

Kagami turns his head and kisses his cheek with lips still stretched in a smile and Aomine splutters. He sneaks a glance at Kagami’s father and finds him looking at them with a warm, supportive expression on his face. 

“You boys take good care of each other, alright?”

“Sure, dad,” “Yes, sir,” the two boys say at the same time and as Kagami starts laughing in that free, uplifting, contagious way of his, Aomine returns the kiss on his warm, blushing cheek and feels like the happiest man on Earth.  
  


*******

  
  


_Say you’ve never seen/ something so beautiful/ I am your dream_

_Tell me I’m everything you’ll ever need/ I’m for you - Archive_

“I had a dream of you.”

The spot on the mattress next to him dips as Aomine moves closer to him, draping a bare, dark-skinned arm over Kagami’s similarly bare chest, and groaning in a sleep-affected husky voice into his ear, “Yeah? What was it about?”

Kagami shifts around to lie on his side, letting out a soft sigh of contentment as Aomine’s arm slides comfortably around his waist and his large, warm hand starts kneading the flesh of his asscheeks in a de-stressing manner. 

“We were at the Maji and instead of the usual teriyaki burger, you ordered some fancy European dish and when the waiter came back with the order and raised the lid, there was a basketball on a silver plate. I remember you challenged me to swallow the whole thing in one go, but luckily I woke up before things could get really nasty.”

Aomine huffs a laugh into the crook of his neck, warm lips pressing softly against his skin and causing a shiver to run through him. 

“You think the basketball was a metaphor for my dick?”

“Huh? How did you get a perverted meaning out of that silly dream?”

Aomine pushes himself up on his elbows, hovering over Kagami. His hair, unlike Kagami’s, is too short for a proper bedhead, but his eyes are soft with sleep and his voice is gruff and he looks a strange mix of adorable and sexy when he wakes up. 

“Well, I did tell you to swallow the whole thing, didn’t I?”

“But why would your dick be on a silver plate?”

“Because my dick is such a gourmet?”

Kagami huffs a laugh at Aomine’s smug expression, unable to keep a straight face and continue their silly banter like a serious conversation. 

“It is, isn’t it? Admit it, Kagami, don’t be shy.”

“Well, it’s alright.”

Aomine pouts childishly at that, but soon regains his cocky expression as he drags a finger across Kagami’s collarbone and over his nipple that is standing a little stiff in the slightly chilly morning air. 

“But if your prude, innocent mind had to picture my dick as a basketball in your dream, that means you think of my dick to be as awesome as basketball, right?”

Kagami holds back a moan as Aomine continues playing around with his nipple, with a lazy, self-satisfied smile on his face as he watches a light blush spreading languidly over Kagami’s cheeks. 

“Aomine, if you want a blowjob, just say so. You don’t need to break your brain trying to make some perverted sense out of my stupid dreams.”

“Of course I want a blowjob. I want a blowjob all the time. But like, don’t you ever have a wet dream of us or something?”

Kagami frowns as if trying to recall an instance of such dreams. “There was that dream with us caught in a downpour. Does that count?”

“Were we having sex in a fucking downpour? That’s badass.”

Kagami snorts. Aomine is kinda sex-crazed, but Kagami doesn’t really mind that. He just likes teasing his boyfriend. “No. We just got wet.”

Aomine gives him a scandalized look. “Kagami! We have to fix this!”

“Hmm?” Kagami hums lazily as he runs his hands over Aomine's back.

Aomine motions wildly at his head. “This! Your brain. It’s too fucking pure it can’t even imagine a sex scene!” 

Kagami has to bite his lip to stop a laugh from bursting out. “Well, maybe if we had enough sex my brain would get the material it needs to make up sexy dreams?” 

Aomine looks like a kid that just got his dream Christmas present. 

“That sounds like an easy fix. Let’s get to it right away.” 

Kagami tightens his arms around Aomine’s waist, pulling his body flush against his.

“Alright.” He mouths at Aomine’s throat and relishes in the slight hitch in the other boy's breath.

Feeling this happy and loved with Aomine is like a dream and a miracle come true. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this fic, yes! Hope you all enjoyed the whole ride and thanks to everyone who supported this fic with their kind words. 
> 
> Everything that I wrote about dreams except for 'dreams are a healing process' is just a product of my imagination and I didn't check if it was supported by professional opinion. 
> 
> Soft soundtracks for this final chapter were Wasserturm by Claude Sabatier and Treplev's Waltz by Manos Milonakis. 
> 
> Interesting fact, I actually grew up with this superstition that talking about your nightmares would make something bad happen so you better keep them to yourselves. 
> 
> Thank you again for giving this fic a chance! Hope to see you soon with another aokaga fic :)

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this fic came to me in a few minutes, and it took me a few months just to write the first chapter. This is gonna be a short one, and hopefully, I'll be able to update soon. I've been in a terrible headspace for a while and I hope it didn't damage the quality of my writing. I'd love to know what you think.


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